


Silence in the Clouds

by Domino_Feathers (Rmk1012)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone (Walking Dead), Bows & Arrows, Canonical Character Death, Death, F/M, Finding Family, Prison, Survival, Swearing, Terminus (The Walking Dead), The Greene Farm (Walking Dead), The Hilltop (Walking Dead), Walkers (Walking Dead), Whisperers, Zombie Apocalypse, mature content, saviors, seasons 2-present
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-01-15 04:50:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21247748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rmk1012/pseuds/Domino_Feathers
Summary: A horrible virus infected everything and everyone in the whole world. A virus that makes the dead rise again to eat the living. It doesn't matter if you are bit or scratched by a walker, if you die, you turn. But they don't know that. Samantha Avery comes across a redneck and a sheriff in the woods, and soon is reunited with someone she was beginning to think was dead.Sam is an experienced hunter, a bow and arrow her weapon of choice, but has experience with plenty of other weapons. She fits in well with the group, showing them her amazing fighting skills. They travel from place to place, trying to find a safe place to live.Along the way, something traumatic happens to our main character, changing how she goes through life on a daily basis. Not only affecting her, but the entire group is changed after a terrible man hurts their family.Read on as she lives her life, fighting the dead, and fearing the living.





	1. Crossbow in the Face

“Ah, shit!” She swore, having just sliced her upper arm on a piece of an abandoned car. Samantha had just spotted an absolutely gigantic herd of the undead coming her direction on the graveyard highway. 

She had been scavenging in the mass of abandoned cars for supplies, as she had been running low after the end of the world started mere months ago. 

Sam’s other hand clamped around her cut bicep as she dropped to the ground, rolling under the car she had been scrounging through. The stampede of uneasy feet stumbled past her, hundreds of the undead passing by without being even partly aware of her presence. 

She thought she heard a shrill scream over the mass of groans, but couldn’t have been sure. There was nothing she could do about it at the moment either way.

It was several minutes before no more feet passed her car, but Samantha waited several more before risking leaving the safety from underneath the car. After finally pulling herself from the ground, Sam readjusted the black bow and quiver slung across her back, checking her arm for further bleeding. She yanked a piece of cloth from her backpack, tying it in a tight knot around her arm, wiping her bloody hand on the empty car seat next to her. 

Sam spent the rest of the day scavenging through the cars, finding few items she could actually use. Throughout the day, she swore she heard more sounds far down the road, but just shook her head before camping out in the back seat of a tall pickup truck. 

~

The next morning, Samantha pulled her ratty red hair into a higher ponytail, again adjusting the placement of her bow over her back. She was wearing a mix of blacks and dark greens, dark combat boots worn in so long, they looked like they might break apart after every step. The mix of dark colors helped with camouflage in the forest, allowing Sam to sneak up on both animals and the undead alike. 

She was constantly wearing a pair of dark leather, fingerless gloves, along with a silver dog tag necklace around her neck. 

It sounded like a footstep, but was too calculated and careful to be one of the undead monsters crawling around. Nocking an arrow, Sam drew the string back as she silently made her way around the big tree in front of her, the same area where the footstep had sounded from. 

Sam kept her face under control, but inside she was practically jumping out of her skin. A taller man was standing across from her, black crossbow aimed at her face.

Her own arrow was pointed at his chest, and they stood there for several seconds, just waiting. The man had sandy brown hair, both his hair and facial hair trimmed closer to the skin. He was wearing a flannel shirt, sleeves torn from the seams, and obviously knew what he was doing with that crossbow. 

Anyone could pick up a gun and learn to use it, especially in times like these, but, a person with a bow, holding it that confidently, knew what they were doing. Samantha was the same way, her face confident as she had her arm drawn back far past her head, hand and fletching next to her mouth. 

“You seen a little girl? Wearin’ a blue shirt with blonde hair?” The gruff man asked around his crossbow, not once taking his eyes away from Sam. 

“No. Have you seen a teenage boy? Tall and lanky, brown hair?” She highly doubted this man had actually come across her brother, but it couldn’t hurt to ask, not if he was asking her about a little girl. The man said nothing. “I haven’t seen anyone, but I’ve been following a set of tracks since yesterday.” She flicked her eyes to her left, where the tracks were. 

“Daryl! Where’d you go?” Another male voice sounded, seconds later coming around the same large tree, coming to a stop beside ‘Daryl’s’ right shoulder. The man also had short dark hair, a python attached to his hip. He definitely didn’t seem as in-tune with the woods as Sam and this ‘Daryl’ were. “Woh. Let’s calm down here.” He said after seeing the two adults pointing their weapons at each other’s faces. 

The man pressed down on Daryl’s crossbow slowly, other hand raised up in a non-threatening manner. “Let’s just lower the bows now, why don’t we?” The man said, and Sam only lowered her bow the slightest bit, arm relaxing minimally. “Have you seen a little girl?”

“Like I said to your bowman here, I haven’t seen anyone, but I’ve been following a set of tracks since yesterday. It seems that they had a smaller shoe size.” Sam jutted her head to the side, the first man, Daryl finally moving his eyes from her to walk over to the track a few feet over. 

“That’s Daryl Dixon, and my name is Rick Grimes,” Rick had his hands on his hips, keeping a close eye on the newcomer. Sam lowered her bow even more, eyes flickering between the man across from her and the other crouching over her trail. 

“Samantha Avery,” she responded hesitantly. Rick nodded. Then his eyes landed on the bloody cloth tied around her arm.

“You’re injured. We can take care of that. We have a group nearby, someone there can patch you up.”

“No thanks, I’m good. I have someone to find too, and that won’t happen by following you.”

“Please, let us just patch you up, we can follow these tracks back. They’re in the same direction. Then you can go on your way and find your person,” Rick bargained, staring Sam straight in the eyes, bright blue orbs piercing seemingly into her soul, combating her striking green ones. This man just radiated authority, and if Sam could guess, he was someone high up in law enforcement. She had the knack of guessing things like that about people. 

Sam held eye contact with the man for a long time before she sighed, walking towards the tracks Daryl was observing. 

“So, where are these tracks?” Rick asked, and both Sam and Daryl just stared at him, then each other. They both let out a breath before walking down the trail, Sam sandwiched between the two men, though she didn’t feel all that unsafe. She still had her arrow knocked, and had a knife strapped to her hip, along with a smaller folding knife stuck into her boot. 

They moved mostly in silence, Sam’s footsteps the quietest of the three, Daryl a close second. Rick just couldn’t seem to pick up the hint to walk quieter. They followed the wandering trail for what seemed like hours, and very well might have been. Luckily, by the time they decided to call it a day and head back to wherever their group was settled, it was still light outside.

Sam eyes widened as they came out of the brush, coming over a hill to show a beautiful farm with expansive fields and fences. And the best thing was that there wasn’t a single undead creature about. They made their way to the large white farmhouse across the fields, Rick explaining something about what had led the girl to go missing or another. Sam actually tuned in when he mentioned hiding under cars. 

“You were caught by that herd on the highway too?” She asked, eyes flickering over to the man. He gave an interesting look, as did Daryl, but answered anyways.

“Yeah. I’m assuming you ran into it too. Is that how you hurt yourself?” Rick asked, eyes glancing down to the blood-soaked rag tied around her bicep. She only nodded. 

As they made it up to the house, they passed by a small camp-looking area, a few tents scattered about, a large RV sitting on the side. There were probably a dozen or less people sitting around the fire there, most of them glancing up to watch as Rick and Daryl escorted the newcomer to the house steps. 

Rick had Sam sit on the steps before yelling inside for a man named ‘Hershel’ before turning back to the camp. Another man had walked up, a hand rubbing on his shaved head. He did not look very happy, that was for sure. Rick stepped down to talk to him as an older man walked out of the house with a small white first aid kit, Daryl sitting on the railing, watching over everything, that definitely including Samantha. 

“Hello. And who are you?” The man’s voice was quite soft, but the question was loaded, and Sam knew it. He was not just asking her name, he was asking what a stranger was doing on his land, armed and dangerous around his house and the other people inhabiting it. Rick finally escaped his conversation with the other intimidating man, turning to talk to Hershel. 

“Hershel. This is Samantha. She’s injured. We found her in the woods, she was following a trail of smaller footsteps. We made a deal, she show us the trail and we would help patch up her arm. Nothing more,” Rick sent a smile to Sam, who was just sitting on the steps, bow slung on her back. 

Hershel only sighed before settling down next to her, opening his little white case. As he started cleaning the wound on her arm, which was deeper than she had originally thought, Sam started scanning the area, wincing, her backpack sitting next to her on the step. 

Most of the people around the fire and surrounding camp between a few trees were still staring at her, a few women looking quite concerned. Sam was not an incredibly scary looking individual, petite stature and pale skin not seeming all that threatening. Maybe it was the appearance of the black bow on her back, or the large knife on her hip. Or just maybe it was how bright and striking her green eyes were, but they most likely could not see them from the distance they were keeping from the redheaded stranger. 

It was when Hershel was preparing a needle and thread to stitch her cut when Sam’s eyes locked on with another’s. A teenaged boy had just rounded from the other side of the RV, holding a basket of what appeared to be fruit. The boy was tall and lanky for his younger age, brown hair flopped against his forehead, freckles across his nose similar in appearance to Sam’s own. 

Their eyes locked at the exact same second, and it was like all time stopped for a full minute. Yet, in reality, it was very quick. The boy dropped the basket before yelling out, the entire group of people near him at the camp snapping their heads in his direction. Sam did a similar act, abruptly standing up on the steps just as Hershel was preparing to start stitching her arm. 

“SAMMY!”


	2. Missing Piece

“SAMMY!”

“CARTER!” Sam yelled right after he did, and the two were practically sprinting at each other, a few noises of surprise erupting from the bystanders. Maybe it was because she had to abruptly shove the other intimidating man out of the way like a swinging door to get to her brother. To Carter. Who, she thought was probably dead at this point, but was hoping for the opposite. 

They collided in the middle of the clearing between the farmhouse and the campsite, arms squeezing around each other so tight like they thought the other might just disappear out of thin air. Sam’s fingers were cradling his head onto her shoulder, his face pressed into her neck as his hands squeezed around her waist.

To be frank, it was an odd sight for the group to observe, as the person Carter had explained as his sister was nothing like the woman they were seeing in front of them. 

Carter was actually taller than Samantha now, probably having grown over the last few months when they were separated due to the end of the world. They only separated after Rick had walked up to them, asking, “Carter. _This_ is your sister?”

Pulling away from his sister, Carter only nodded his head at the older man, a similar silver dog tag necklace hanging around his neck. Sam’s hands were cradling and stroking his cheeks, fingers running over his matching freckles. 

“Yeah! This is Sammy—”

“Samantha,” Sam interjected. 

“I told you she could use a bow like a pro!” Carter finished. Sam gave him a side-eye, wondering just how much he had bragged about her to his seeming-group.

“And this was the person you were looking for?” Rick asked Samantha, pointing at Carter. Sam nodded, thumbs hooking on her beltloops. “Alright. Well, why don’t you get patched up, and then we can all talk over the fire, get everyone caught up.”

Sam walked back to the front steps, Carter practically plastered to her side. They sat down together, Hershel giving the woman a look. 

“Oh. Right. Sorry for just jumping up and running off there,” Sam apologized a bit sheepishly, free hand clasped tightly around her brother’s to make sure he didn’t disappear. Hershel just hmphed before returning to his previous ministrations, leaning forwards to begin stitching Sam’s skin back together. 

“So. Carter, tell me what happened. I need you to distract me from the sharp needle stabbing into my skin right now,” she joked slightly, turning her head to the younger boy next to her. 

And they sat there, talking, for the several minutes it took for Hershel to stitch up the long gash that crossed over her bicep. It would scar, but it could just add to the collection of silly accidents Sam had accumulated over the years on her skin. 

~

It was dark now, and the group was sat around a raging fire, Carter’s head resting on Sam’s shoulder as she hesitantly answered the questions of the various people sitting around her, each time looking at her younger brother before answering after his warm eyes encouraged her to play nice. 

“So, you’re this ‘Sammy’ Carter has been telling us about?” An older man asked, he was wearing a tan fishing hat and had a peppered beard. Sam frowned a bit. It seemed that everyone knew her by that name. About time to fix that problem. 

“Samantha. And yes. Carter is my younger brother. We were apart when the world ended, and I’ve been trying to find him and my father since it all happened,” that made a thought cross her mind. Her eyes flick to Carter’s, which were already looking up at her sadly. He had already answered her question, without even asking it.

The rest of the group watched this silent conversation, watching as Samantha’s facial expression widened before sinking.

“Dad’s dead, isn’t he?” She whispered, turning back to face the fire. She could feel Carter’s head nod against her shoulder. Sam let out a long breath before continuing. “Carter isn’t really my brother. He’s technically my cousin, but his folks died when he was really young so my parents adopted him. We basically grew up together. Always the thorn in my side,” she smiled sadly, a few others letting out a small chuckle. 

“And Samantha, what did you do…before all this?” A woman with long brown hair asked. She was sat next to Rick, probably his wife. Sam exhaled, that was a question she could answer. 

“I was an ecologist, I studied the population of species over specific areas of land. Kinda boring actually,” she laughed a bit. “Definitely not something I could bring to the table now.”

“And…the bow? Where did you learn to shoot?” The older man from earlier asked. 

“Ah. Yes. My father was a big hunter, and had me learning since I was a kid. He made me learn how to use a bunch of different weapons…bow, crossbow, a variety of rifles and shotguns. Bow was always my favorite though,” she stared into the flames, eyes flickering up to Daryl, who was seated against a tree in the circle, as she said ‘crossbow’. 

“Wow. Yeah, you are _nothing_ like what Carter described,” Rick’s wife said. A few people laughed at that. Sam looked around the circle of people before flickering her gaze to her brother, quirking an eyebrow at him. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Just _what_ did you tell them about me?” More people laughed as she said that, and Carter looked sheepish. 

“Well…” Again, more laughter. It couldn’t be good, especially if he was referring her as ‘Sammy’ this entire time. “Looking back on it now, I _might_ have made it seem like you were a silly adult having fun looking at trees. But I did say you could use a bow!”

The group erupted in chuckles and giggles as Sam’s face widened, before it narrowed as she glared at her brother. “It’s like you don’t even know what my job is. I don’t look at _trees_, I look at _animal populations_. Man, you suck. Supremely.”

The group strayed after that, talking of other random stories, mostly leaving Sam alone to warm by the fire and just listen to them. 

Sam would lean down every few minutes, asking her brother quietly who each person was. She hated being in the dark; always preferred knowing all of the information. 

“And that guy? He’s got a shaved head and has been glaring at me since I got here,” she whispered next, and Carter let out a small chuckle.

“Oh that’s Shane. He was a cop too, Rick’s partner. He doesn’t seem to like anyone anymore, he’s been really crazy about a lot of things we do these days.” Carter didn’t see it, but what he had said threw up just about a dozen red flags for Sam. She would keep an eye on that one for sure. 

And they slowly went around the whole circle, Carter giving small anecdotes about each person. They both had that in common; always remembering the weird small details that most people missed. They were incredibly observant, Sam even more so than her younger teen brother. 

Sam learned about the Greene’s, and Rick and Lori’s son, Carl, who was currently resting in the house after having been indirectly shot. She learned that the Asian guy, Glenn, delivered pizza’s before the fall, and that the older man, Dale, was Carter’s favorite person, and probably would be Sam’s too, according to him. 

She would have to see about that. The man was nice, but she knew nothing about him, or anyone else for that matter. Nothing of extreme importance, other than Shane being a douche and Andrea always complaining, or of Daryl’s stand-offish personality (something of which she found out for herself just fine, thank you). She learned of what happened while they were apart, how Carter stumbled upon the group in the quarry after their father was bitten by walkers trying to save him. 

She learned of their trip to the CDC, and all of the crazy that went down there, how they all almost died, and how Sophia, the little blonde girl and daughter of Carol, went missing. Sam stayed quiet for most of it, just listening as her brother caught her up to present day. After he was done, she shared her own story, of how she was working when everything went down, and tried to get back home, but couldn’t for several days. And when she finally did, the house had been emptied of some of the important items, most likely by Carter and their father, and she gathered her own leftover items, clothes, and her favorite weapons.

She didn’t even have a gun on her, but preferred it that way, already having learned the hard way that sound attracted the undead. Or walkers, as Sam was informed that that was what this group called them. Easy enough.

When it finally got late enough for everyone to head to bed, Sam stood and stretched with her brother, fully intending to sleep wherever he was. There was no way she would leave his side now that she had found him. 

“So bud, where’re we sleeping?” She asked, stretching her arms above her head. 

“Not so fast, there,” Shane stepped up, hands placed on his hips. Sam just looked at him, unimpressed. “You just got here, we know nothing about you. Carter stays in the RV, with others. We can’t just trust you to sleep in the same place as them.”

Sam scoffed. “I’m not leaving my brother. No matter what. So you better figure something out or chill the fuck out,” Sam said, multiple people from around the fire pausing in their retreat to their various tents. 

Rick stepped up to them next, hands held up to try and diffuse the situation. “Look, it’s been a long day. There is no need to do anything drastic here. We can fit one more in the RV, I’m sure everything will be just fine.”

And with that, Sam and Carter beelined for the RV door, Shane and Rick arguing behind them. Sam just shook her head, stepping up into the RV after her brother. He led her to the back of the RV, where two small beds were pushed up against either wall of the RV. The gray-haired woman, Carol, was already sitting on the right bed, and Sam waved for her brother to take the other. 

“Are you sure? Knowing you, you probably slept in a tree last night,” Carter teased. He knew her too well when it came to camping habits. 

“I’m fine. Take the bed. The floor will be just as comfortable for me,” Sam settled down on the floor after snatching a pillow and blanket from the small closet, resting her bow and quiver of arrows next to her, hand clasped tightly around her bow as she closed her eyes to settle into sleep, backpack at her feet. 

It was a long trek into dreamland, any small noise slapping Samantha back into full consciousness, hand tightening its hold on the grip of the bow. It would take her several minutes to fall back close to sleep again, only to be shocked awake by another tiny noise. 

This was how her nights usually went, anxious constantly. She was similar before walkers appeared, but it only heightened afterwards, as there actually was a reason to be scared out of her mind. 

Sam eventually gave up trying to sleep, climbing to her feet to exit the RV, grabbing her bow and quiver on the way out. Climbing up the ladder at the end of the large vehicle, Sam was surprised to see Dale sitting in a folding beach chair, shotgun across his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a Twitter account for updates and such, check me out there: https://twitter.com/FeathersDomino


	3. Deputy and a Chupacabra

“Couldn’t sleep?” Dale asked, only looking over at her at the end of the sentence. She only nodded before sitting on the edge of the roof, legs swung over the side. 

“Your brother was the same way the first nights after he found us. What a sight, that was,” the older man chuckled, shifting his shotgun in his lap. Sam looked up at him. “He was so dirty, half covered in blood. A few of us thought he was a walker at first, before he asked for help. All alone, a young teenager wandering the woods with just a backpack and a knife.”

“I was at work when everything started. We were camped out for a week, and by the time we got back into town, chaos had already blown through. The news said that people were biting and eating each other, and to avoid them at all costs. I rushed home, but it was empty, all the important supplies gone. I had hoped it was my father and brother. I wasn’t surprised they didn’t wait for me, we had talked in the past about locations to meet at if something happened,” Sam looked back out across the fields, her voice the only thing in the silence of the night. “So I went to our meeting place; our favorite hunting spot that not many people knew about. When I got there, it was vacant. There was blood everywhere, but no people, no bodies. I just hoped that my family was okay. I’ve been trying to find them since. And I finally did.”

She sounded sad in the last sentences, even though she successfully found her brother. 

“Your father, were you close to him?” Dale asked.

“Yes, and no. We were close for years, but then my mother died from cancer, and I buried myself in schoolwork, we grew distant. But I loved him, and I love Carter. It’s hard to believe he’s dead, he was so capable for situations like this; he always had plans and stuff in case something like this happened,” Sam sighed. “I don’t know how he died, but, knowing him, he probably died protecting Carter, something he swore to do from the day my family adopted him.”

Her eyes were tearing up now, and Sam hastily swiped at her face, sniffling. She kept her gaze on the fields, watching for any movement in the dark of the night. 

“He sounds like a wonderful man. But it’s no coincidence Daryl and Rick found you, reunited you with Carter. I don’t know what to call it, but it’s happened before. The same happened with Rick and his family. He was in a coma, left at the hospital, but met part of our group in Atlanta and was reunited with his wife and son. Things like this don’t just happen,” Dale explained, and Sam looked back at him from her spot on the edge of the roof of the RV. 

“I will never take advantage of this, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I just hope to help reunite that little girl with her mother. It’s the least I could do after what this group has done for me, even if not everyone is happy with my arrival,” she scoffed as she turned back to keeping watch, Dale chuckling slightly from behind her. 

“Shane is a difficult man, and doesn’t trust anyone’s judgment other than his own. It will take some time for him to trust you, so I suggest not riling him up.”

Sam barked out a laugh. “Been there. Already done that.” 

They both laughed quietly, before going back to a comfortable silence. Sam now understood why Carter liked the older man so much, he was easy to talk to. Sam would just have to see if everyone else was just as easy, something she did not think was very probable. 

~

The next morning, Sam was laid on the roof of the RV, having fallen asleep without returning to the inside of the vehicle. A loud bang and yell startled her awake, and she sat up abruptly from the hard roof.

“Sammy?! Where are you?” It was Carter, and he sounded terrified. He must’ve woken up and not seen Sam next to him, and freaked out. 

Sam bolted up to her feet, walking to the edge of the roof towards the inside of the camp, above where Carter had stepped out of the RV. 

“Carter, I’m up here, I didn’t leave,” she yelled out, and Carter’s head snapped up to the roof, and Sam could see the slight tears swelling in his eyes. She quickly made her way to the ladder, jumping down at the last few rungs. Carter was there, abruptly yanking her into a tight hug. Sam returned the hug, running her hand over her younger brother’s head. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m real. Not a dream,” Sam knew what was running through his head, it was the same that ran through hers when she first saw him across the clearing. For a split second, she didn’t think he was real. 

Carter sobbed quietly into her shoulder for a few minutes before pulling away, wiping his eyes. 

“Come on, buddy. We’ve got work to do, huh?” Sam said, trying to distract him. She heard Rick in the distance, calling everyone to start the search day. She let Carter go to do what he pleased and joined the rest of the abled group around the hood of a car, a map stretched out in front of them. She still had her weapons on her, bow and quiver of arrows on her back, knives on her hip and in her boot. 

She joined the conversation just as Shane was burying Daryl’s find of a farmhouse like it didn’t even matter. 

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me. Anyone could have been holed up in that farmhouse.” He was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, door wide open. Sam stepped up between Rick and Daryl on the other side, hands on her hips as she waited for an opening in the conversation to enlist her help. 

“Anybody includes her, right?” Andrea fought. Daryl jumped in next. It was an interesting dynamic, this group. 

“Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high,” Daryl argued, hand out by his waist to suggest height. 

“It’s a good lead,” Andrea agreed. 

“Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again,” Rick said. Dale was coming over with a big bag of guns, the word ‘SHERIFF’ in yellow on the side. 

Daryl talked about taking a horse and looking over a ridge, the larger man, T-Dog, intersecting afterwards. 

“Maybe you’ll see your Chupacabra up there too,” he mocked. Sam quirked an eyebrow behind them, as they still hadn’t noticed her, wondering what that was about.  
Rick questioned the same thing. 

“You never heard this?” Dale set the bag on the hood. “Our first night of camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time when he went squirrel hunting and he saw a Chupacabra.”

The teenager, Jimmy, laughed on the other side of Rick. They went back and forth a few times before Sam decided to make her presence known. 

“Hey, I would like to help out too, I’m quiet and can track,” Sam stood, arms crossed over her chest, stance wide. They all turned to her, some quirking an eyebrow. She understood, she was the new one to the group, not fully trusted yet.

“Can you handle yourself out there? I don’t know how much you can handle, little lady,” Shane dragged, and Sam snorted. 

“Please, I could probably out-shoot you, any weapon of choice. And like I said, I can also track, something I’m sure you can’t do. I want to help, and you won’t stop me.” 

They stared at each other for several seconds before Rick broke the staring contest. 

“Fine, Samantha, you can go with Andrea and T-Dog,” Rick said, and Shane scoffed before looking away. 

The teen, Jimmy, reached for a gun from the hood, immediately being stopped and asked if he could even shoot it. Andrea agreed to let him search with them, after Shane brought up gun training they would be doing the next day. 

“And maybe our newcomer, _Sammy_, would like to join us too, show us what she knows,” Shane finishes. 

“It’s Samantha. And I’ll be glad to show you how well I can shoot, if that’s okay with you, _deputy_,” she mocked back, grabbing a handgun from the pile, no one stopping her. Sam shoved it in the waistband of her jeans, the gun pressed up against the small of her back. 

Shane said nothing back, the rest of the small group staring in amusement. Rick broke the silence by giving them their assignments, and Sam finally broke her gaze to stare down at the map Rick was pointing at. 

She remembered randomly at that moment to make sure she changed the bandage around her sewn arm before heading out to search that day. 

~

They spent the better part of the day in the woods, Sam continuously searching for any sign of tracks, any loose dirt, broken twigs or flattened patches of grass. They didn’t have much luck in their grid. Luckily the other three didn’t try to include her in their ongoing conversations, as she liked to focus whole-heartedly when doing something this serious. 

They finally returned later that afternoon, Andrea stationed on top of the RV like she owned the damn thing. So cocky, Sam picked up on it while searching through the woods, as Andrea’s words mostly dripped with arrogant ego. 

Suddenly she stood up, yelling out, “Walker. Walker!”

Sam snapped her attention to the fields, seeing a lone figure emerge from the tree line. It was only the one, so she wasn’t sure why Andrea was being so dramatic about announcing it. 

“I bet I can nail it from here,” Andrea claimed, grabbing a rifle. Rick immediately objected. Sam couldn’t help but agree, but kept her mouth shut for the moment. She kept her gaze on the staggering walker, watching for more to exit the forest, although none did. 

Rick, Shane, T-Dog and Glenn all grabbed weapons before running out, approaching the walker quickly. They hesitated to kill it, keeping an odd distance. Sam couldn’t understand why they didn’t just kill it, when suddenly a shot rang out. Andrea. 

She just couldn’t help herself, and then Sam noticed the men yelling. Something was wrong. They were waving their arms in the air and screaming ‘No!’ over and over again.

“You idiot. They had it handled. You just had to show off, huh?” Sam snapped. She didn’t want to overstep, but this was ridiculous. 

The people in the house ran out, and Andrea and Dale took off into the field, Sam closely following. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god, is he dead?” Andrea yelled as they approached. They had Daryl pinned between them, covered in dirt and blood with a string of walker ears around his neck. He did look dead, and Sam narrowed her gaze at Andrea. She was so stupid. There were four of them already out here for one walker, why did she feel the need to show off? Just to get a pat on the back?

“Unconscious. You just grazed him,” Rick answered, and they all started walking back to the house. Sam said nothing, observing instead. 

“But look at him. What the hell happened? He’s wearing ears,” Glenn pointed out, Rick ripping them off and shoving them into his own shirt. 

“Let’s keep that to ourselves.”

T-Dog stopped behind the group, holding something up. “Guys, isn’t this Sophia’s?”

It was a doll, Sam assumed it probably did belong to the little girl, especially if they were mentioning it.

They got Daryl to the house, Shane and Rick staying in the bedroom with Hershel as the older man went to stitching him up. 

Sam stayed on the porch, sitting on the railing, twirling an arrow between her fingers. The letters _SA_ were engraved into each one, right above the blue and white fletching. She ran her thumb across the dips as she watched the camp from afar, preferring mostly to observe from a distance to gain as much information as possible.

Andrea was seated on the steps near her, looking all guilty and sad for herself. Sam just scoffed, a bit louder than she intended to. Andrea looked up at her, a largely offended look spread across her face. 

“What?” Sam started, still fiddling with her arrow. 

“You got a problem with me?” Andrea asked incredulously. 

“You’re sitting here, looking all guilty and bad for yourself. Daryl’s the one who got impaled by his own bolt and shot in the head. Don’t make this about you, geez,” Samantha ended, hopping from the railing to walk to the campfire. 

She quickly learned that they were actually having a proper dinner inside the house, something Sam had not had for several months, at this point. She made her way inside when dinner was ready, plopping down next to her brother, waiting for the rest of the group to join them. 

What ensued after that was probably the most awkward dinner Sam had ever experienced, quickly volunteering to take Daryl a plate of food to escape the silence, loading a plate with a bit of everything before silently making her way down the hall, knocking lightly on the door in a weird pattern. 

_Knock, knock. Pause. Knock, knock, knock. _

“What?” Daryl snapped from inside. Sam nudged the door open with her foot, Daryl pulling the sheets farther over his body as she made her way inside.

“It’s terribly awkward out there, so I made my escape by bringing you food,” Sam stated, setting the food on the nightstand, making sure to account for the odd look on Daryl’s bandaged face. She sat in the chair at the end of the bed, slinging her feet up over the arm. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring at her from the bed. 

“Pfft. I’m not going back there any sooner than I have to. I’ll even sacrifice warm food to escape that type of awkward.” Daryl only grunted in response. Sam leaned back into the other arm of the chair and closed her eyes, hearing Daryl grunt again. She could hear him messing with the plate, probably eating something from it.

She stayed for only a few more minutes before leaving, not wanting the group to become suspicious of her prolonged disappearance. She rejoined the still silent and awkward table, digging back into her food as Carter picked around his next to her. 

They finished dinner and cleaned up in silence, Samantha finally escaping the house to retreat to the RV, where she and Carter settled into bed quickly, sharing goodnights before setting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving kudos, a comment, or subscribing to be notified of future updates (which are about every week and a half). 
> 
> \- Domino


	4. Surprise, Surprise, She Really Can Shoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is a bit shorter than the others have been and will be, but I hope you still enjoy it!

It was the next morning when Daryl was moved out into a tent in camp instead of being holed up in the house, and Sam decided to deliver a sort of peace-offering, even if there weren’t any problems between them. She just knew how he felt, injured and unable to help, and knew that they had met in a pretty harsh way.

As she was approaching his tent, though, she could hear Andrea already giving him a similar gift. 

“What, no pictures?” Sam could hear Daryl say. Andrea went on to apologize to him, but he mostly just shrugged it off, only ending with a threat to make sure he was dead if Andrea shot him again. 

Andrea dipped out of the tent, sending a glare Sam’s way as she was about to step inside afterwards. Sam, not being one to back down easily, glared right back, and hers was much more lethal.

Sam entered the tent right after, one of her favorite novels between her hands. She couldn’t believe she was doing this, especially right after Andrea had done the same thing. 

“Hey. I was coming here to give you a book to read, but it seems Andrea beat me to it,” Sam greeted, hands clasped around the book. Daryl looked up at her, eyes glancing between her own striking green ones and the book in her hands. 

“You want something?”

Sam was taken aback, actually. There was nothing she wanted or needed from the man, but, nonetheless, felt a pull to talk to him, for some reason. 

“No. But I’ve been injured before, and couldn’t help when I was needed. This book helped me pass the time, I just thought you could benefit from it as well. That…and we kind of met while having arrows shoved in each other’s faces,” Sam was not one to become awkward, so she held eye contact while fiddling with the book slightly. 

It was an interesting stare off, striking green eyes combating with bright blue ones. 

“You were protecting yourself, same as me. Shows you got balls,” was all he said, reaching out and taking the book without a second of hesitation. Sam looked at him for a few more seconds before nodding and dipping out of the tent once more. 

Sam silently joined the conversation at the car hood once again, practically sneaking up on the people standing around it. She only caught the tail end of the conversation, and, after it was finished, Shane immediately called her out.

“Now, Samantha, why don’t you join us at the shooting range today? Show us what you can really do?”

“Fine. Just don’t go crying to Rick or anyone else when I kick your ass,” Sam said, turning and stalking off to find her little brother. 

Carter knew how to shoot as well, but wasn’t as interested in more unconventional weapons, preferring to stick to handguns and rifles. He would be joining them at the range as well, as Rick and Shane wanted to experience everyone’s skill with shooting. 

It wasn’t long before they went out to the range, packed into a few of the cars parked near camp. Sam was squeezed between Carter and Andrea, and took the wonderful advantage of sitting next to her brother to lean heavily against him. 

~

Soon they had bottles and cans lined up on top of a distant fence, the more unexperienced shooters talking their time and learning how to properly shoot, with the help of T-Dog, Rick and Shane. Carter was doing well, hitting just about every bottle on the first try. 

Sam was stepped back, allowing the others to practice while she observed. Eventually, Shane and Rick came upon her, Shane immediately voicing his doubt. 

“Samantha, you’re not shooting. Nervous about missing?” He practically spat. Rick just looked on curiously, probably beginning to doubt Sam could even shoot a gun properly. 

“I was letting everyone get a turn in before I did mine. But if that’s what you want, you can just stand back and behold my magnificence,” Sam mocked in a slightly different voice, drawing her heavy handgun before stepping up, studying a straight line of bottles on the fence in front of her. The other group members had all paused, wanting to see the newcomer walk her talk. 

And walk the walk, Sam did, after studying the bottles for a few more seconds, and aiming, she turned her head to the two former police officers, her body following with it, leaving only one hand on the gun, her body now turned sideways. 

She pulled the trigger, hearing the bottle shatter, before shifting her arm slightly and shooting again. She did this down the small line, hitting each bottle on the first try, all the while maintaining eye contact with a decreasingly-egotistical Shane. Rick had wide eyes, and Carter was cheering behind her. 

Sam shot all of the bottles in her line before lowering her arm and clicking on the safety. Rick whistled before looking at Shane and shaking his head, walking away to get the training back into gear. T-Dog was chuckling down the line, and Carl was watching her, fascinated. 

Sam stepped away from the shooting area, holstering her gun before leaning back on the hood of the car. She let out a breath, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She didn’t like showing off or putting herself above anyone else, usually, but felt the need to defend her personal skill after all the peer doubt was surfacing. 

And no one asked her to shoot again that afternoon, as she clearly did not seem interested in being everyone’s show goat. They returned to camp later that afternoon, and everyone seemed to head off in their own directions, Sam ruffling Carter’s hair before returning to Daryl’s tent. 

“Hey,” she said as she stepped inside, seeing that Daryl was reading the book she had given him, not the one Andrea had. Daryl looked up at her before returning his gaze to the book, grunting out.

“Good book.”

Sam let out a laugh, sitting down on the ground a few feet away from where Daryl was laid down. 

“You can keep it…for as long as it takes to read. I’ve already read it a million times, at this point.”

Daryl only grunted in return, turning the page. Sam sat for a while, beginning to fiddle with the fletching on her handmade light-wood arrow. It was the same at the others, white and blue fletching with the letters SA engraved above it.

“You make those yourself?” Daryl asked, and when Sam looked up, he was no longer reading the book, instead watching as she spun the arrow between her fingers.

“Yeah, I ran low of my premade ones, and my father taught me how to make my own, so I found it practical to do so. Do you make yours?” 

“Some. Same reason.”

Sam was beginning to learn that Daryl was a man of few words, but found she didn’t mind it. She sat for minutes longer before letting out a long sigh and pulling herself to her feet, adjusting the way her bow and quiver rested against her back.

“Dinner should be soon, I’ll bring you back a plate, if you want?” Daryl only grunted, returning his gaze to the book. It just made Sam want to read it all over again.

~

It was the next morning when everything was tossed up into the air again, Glenn ruining their quiet breakfast with gut-wrenching news. 

“Um, guys. So…the barn is full of walkers.”


	5. Barn Full of Walkers

“Um, guys. So…the barn is full of walkers.”

Sam was contently eating her breakfast, listening to Carter chat aimlessly about a comic book he and Carl had just finished reading. Sam’s fork dropped onto her plate as she looked up at Glenn, eyes widening before narrowing as her head snapped to the far-off barn. 

One second, everyone was still, the next, the entire group was sprinting full-speed to the barn. Sam, having always been a fast runner, was at the front of the group, hand clamped around her bow string to keep it in place on her back. 

Once they got there, Shane practically shoved his face against a crack in the wooden planks, staring in at the probably dozens of walkers held there. Sam was standing slightly in front of her brother, and didn’t fail to notice how Daryl distinctly landed himself half in front of Sam, crossbow already in his hands. 

They heard a loud growl before Shane walked back to where the rest of the group was standing. “You cannot tell me you’re all right with this.”

Rick was quick to bite back a response. “No I’m not, but we’re guests here. This isn’t our land.”

“This is our lives!” Shane argued. A few others chimed in a sentence at a time, but all Sam did was watch from her position between Carter and Daryl. She was usually more of an observant than a plan-maker, liking to just watch and pitch in when applicable. 

It was what made her so perfect for her job, as she could just sit back and observe and count, watching as animals came in and out of ecosystems. 

Shane then basically addressed the entire group. “Okay, we’ve either got to go in there, we’ve got to make things right or we’ve just got to go. Now, we have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time.”

Sam had no idea what he was talking about, but assumed Fort Benning was a conversation they had before Sophia went missing, maybe even before the CDC fiasco Carter had talked about.

Rick and Shane went back and forth, Carol chiming in when Shane asked why they couldn’t just leave. Daryl jumped in after that, the two of them arguing. Sam listened as Shane practically said that Sophia was most certainly dead at this point. While Sam didn’t want to believe it, the probability of it being true was far too high to be confident in Sophia’s being alive. 

And Sam hated that. If it were her brother, she would never stop until she found him, alive or not. Hell, it was what she was doing before she ran into Daryl and Rick in the woods; she was looking for her brother, and found him. 

It was Shane’s next sentence that made all hell break loose, and it was all Sam had in her not to try and intervene. 

“Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you coming all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction!”

Daryl practically leapt at Shane, Rick keeping them apart. Sam grabbed a tight hand around Carter’s wrist, wanting to keep him as far from the fighting and shouting as possible. No need for either of them to get involved in that one. 

Shane started walking away until Rick responded. “Now just let me talk to Hershel. Let me figure it out.”

Shane rebounded, yelling again, Lori keeping him at bay with a hand to the chest. Interesting. “What are you gonna figure out?!”

“If we’re gonna stay, it we’re gonna clear this barn, I have to talk him into it. This is his land.” Sam highly doubted that would work out in their favor, because, if Hershel, if this family was purposely keeping walkers in a barn, then they wouldn’t want them to just be gotten rid of. Rick could try his best, but Hershel’s mind would probably never be changed. 

Dale was on the same mindset. “Hershel sees those things in there as people…Sick people…his wife, his stepson.” Wow, Sam was surprised. Not only did Glenn know about it, he must have told Dale about it too before telling the group. 

Rick questioned his knowledge, and Dale confirmed that he knew, and had talked to Hershel the day prior. Rick and Dale went back and forth a few times, but what Dale said was true, they lasted the night without knowing, and nothing happened. 

A plan was made, they would take shifts watching over the barn, and Rick was going to talk to Hershel before going out to look for Sophia. The rest of the group made their way back to the main camp, and Sam saw Daryl stalk off towards the stables from the corner of her eye.

No way. There was no way Daryl was trying to do what she thought. He would kill himself trying before he even found anything, let alone find Sophia. She followed from a distance, footsteps silent as not to attract attention to herself. 

Like she thought, Daryl was attempting to saddle a horse to go out looking for himself. 

“You do that, and I might just have to shoot you,” Sam said, arms crossed over her chest. Daryl glared back at her, and they held contact for several seconds. 

“I’m fine.”

Sam scoffed. “No, you’re not. You need to heal, hell you were only injured two days ago!”

“I don’t care.”

Another scoff. “Rick is going out later himself.”

“Yeah well, I ain’t gonna sit around and do nothing.”

Sam glared at him from across the stable, weight shifting from one hip to the other. “Yeah, you’re gonna go out there and get yourself killed.”

Daryl ignored her, and tried lifting the saddle, only to have it be far too heavy and for him to hurt himself. Sam stepped closer, arms dropping to her sides. “Are you okay?”

“Leave me be, stupid bitch.” And he left, stomping out of the stables, a hand pressed to his side. Sam sighed, placing the saddle back to it’s original place before returning to the camp. 

She used the mirror in the RV’s bathroom to brush out her hair, braiding it back against her head. She definitely need to wash it, but now was obviously not the best time to do so. 

So she sat on the railing of the porch, whittling down what would become another arrow. She would probably have to use different fletching, but an arrow was an arrow. 

The rest of the group were mostly standing on or around the porch, asking where Rick was and what was going on. It was when Daryl showed up with Carol did Sam look up from her task. 

“Damn it. Isn’t anyone taking this seriously? We got us a damn trail,” Daryl turned around, seeing Shane approaching, the same black bag of guns over his shoulder.  
“What’s all this?” Daryl pointed to the guns, Shane holding a shotgun out to him. 

“You with me, man?” And Daryl took the gun, cocking it. “Time to grow up.”

He went around, giving practically everyone a gun, even handing a rifle to Sam and a nice handgun to Carter. He obviously wasn’t as oblivious as Sam thought, if he could acknowledge the skill the Avery’s had when it came to weapons. 

Shane even gave a gun to little Carl, telling him to protect his mother. Shane was probably, no, absolutely, insane if he was going to do what Sam thought he was.  
They were interrupted when Hershel, Rick and Jimmy came walking back, two walkers attached to the opposite end of a capture pole. 

The group, like earlier that morning, was already sprinting at the men and walkers, Sam keeping up easily with Shane’s long legs. 

Shane was immediately yelling and ranting on site, Rick and Hershel struggling to maneuver the walkers towards the barn with all the added people and noise. 

“These things ain’t sick. They’re not people. They’re dead. Ain’t gonna feel nothing for them ‘cause all they do, they kill!” Shane was walking a brisk circle around the tethered walkers, face red with anger. “These things right here, they’re the things that killed Amy. They killed Otis.” _They killed my father_, Sam thought. “They’re gonna kill all of us.”

Rick was trying desperately to get Shane to stop his yelling, and Sam stayed back, again in front of Carter but somehow behind Daryl. The next several seconds would probably change how the Greene family saw walkers. 

“Hey, Hershel, man, let me ask you something. Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?” Shane then shot the walker attached to Hershel’s catch pole three times, all in the chest, and, obviously, the walker was stilling up and growling. Shane yelled some more before shooting the walker again. 

“Shane, enough,” Rick spat while trying to control his own walker. 

“Yeah, you’re right, man. That is enough.” And with that, Shane killed the walker with a shot to the head, the fall of the corpse bringing Hershel to his knees, the older man staring in disbelief at the walker in front of him. 

Shane yelled like he never had before, stating that it was enough looking for Sophia, who was probably dead, that it was enough living next to walkers, that they had to fight to survive. Shane then ran at the barn, using a pickaxe to destroy the lock and open the barn doors. 

Rick was yelling all the while for Hershel to take the pole his walker was connected to, but Hershel seemed to be in shock. 

The barn doors opened, and walkers immediately plowed out, various group members stepping up to start disposing of them. Sam stepped up beside Daryl, Carter still behind her, gun at his side. Good. He didn’t need to be a part of this. 

Daryl and Sam starting shooting, side by side, taking down walker after walker, their shots never seeming to hit the same one, a weird, silent way of communication already flowing between them. Sam blamed it on the fact that they were both hunters, and had that sixth sense to them. 

Soon, all of the walkers were down, dozens of bodies littering the ground in front of the barn doors.

It was silent, for several seconds, before a soft growl made its way to their ears. A small child stepped out, large bloody bite mark on her chest. She was wearing a blur shirt with a rainbow on it, khaki-colored pants with tennis shoes. Blonde, shoulder-length hair finished the girl, and Sam could sense the stiffening silence surrounding her. 

She heard Carter gasp, and saw Daryl stiffen. It was Sophia. Sam had never seen her, but she knew, without a doubt, that the little girl they had been looking for this whole time, has only feet away, already taken by the undead.

Her thoughts were confirmed when Carol started running forwards, yelling out her daughter’s name in pure sadness and disbelief. Daryl was quick to catch her, helping the woman to the ground as she cried. Sam backed up, reaching a hand behind her to grab her brother, tucking him tightly against her back. Carter buried his face into her braided hair, unable to bear watching this little girl stumble closer to them.

Sam reached up a hand, pressing against the back side of her brother’s head, whispering, “Don’t look. Don’t look.” Her brother was shivering and quietly sobbing into her hair, Carol and Daryl near her feet. Sam forgot sometimes, how young Carter still was. He may look older, being as tall and lanky as he was, but he was still a child, in a lot of ways. 

They all stood in complete shock as Rick stepped up, firing his gun for the first time that afternoon. Walker Sophia fell to the ground mere feet from her mother, Carol’s wails ringing out over the silent farmland. 

This was not what Sam was expecting only days after finding her brother.


	6. Nothing You Could Do

And there she was; a little girl, dirty and bloody, dead on the ground. Everyone looked distraught, hell, even Shane looked distraught. Daryl was whispering into Carol’s ear from the ground, Sam tightening her hold on Carter’s head to her shoulder, the younger boy gripping onto her shirt. 

Daryl got Carol to her feet, immediately which after pushed Daryl away and ran off crying. While Sam never had any children, she could mildly understand how it felt to lose someone close to you. 

Otherwise, it was mostly silence, the teen girl, Beth, sobbing from across the clearing, being consoled by Jimmy. Beth pulled free and decided to storm her way past Rick and Shane, obviously on a mission. The girl knelt above a female walker’s head, obviously her mother.

After shoving another dead walker off of her mother, she turned her mother onto her back. The walker wasn’t completely down though, having only been shot in the mouth. The walker reached up and yanked on Beth’s hair, trying its best to pull the girl down to bite her. 

The group quickly approached and tried to separate the two, and mass chaos ensued as it took multiple people to pull Beth away. Sam separated from her brother, quickly pulling her bow from her back, nocking an arrow. As T-Dog started kicking the walker, who’s arms were being held up by Glenn, Sam took aim and let the arrow fly. 

Andrea had just picked up a nearby scythe, but was too late by the time Sam’s arrow struck; perfectly through the eye and out the back of the head. 

Everything froze then, majority of the group staring down at Sam’s arrow and the walker. Daryl, however, was only staring at Sam, who’s hands and bow were still raised after releasing the arrow, hand still by her face. 

Sam had forgotten that no one had seen her shoot her bow yet, and hypothesized that most of them forgot she even had one. Sam made her way forward as the group snapped their gazes upon her, approaching the walker before pulling the long arrow from its head. 

She wiped the arrow clean before returning to her brother. The Greene family finally collected themselves and made their way up to the house, Rick, Shane, and Glenn following. She didn’t bother paying attention to the screaming match that followed. 

Carl and Lori remained seated where they were, Dale and Andrea still remaining around the barn. Carter eventually sat too, Sam sliding down next to him. 

“However long you need or want me, I’ll be here,” Sam whispered, wrapping her arms around her knees. Carter only nodded, leaning over to rest his head on her shoulder, no more tears to cry at this point. 

The last important person he had seen die was their father, someone who Sam was trying to push to the back of her mind daily so as to move on from it. While it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, she had no other choice but to do so, as Sam wanted to remain strong for her brother. 

Sam could hear Carl and Lori talking behind them, and it reminded Sam of how young these children were. Carl seemed young.

Carl and Dale headed back to the house, Rick and Shane returning to the barn. Sam stood up then, holding a hand to her brother, who grabbed it before practically hauling himself to his feet. Sam whispered to him about heading back to the camp, not needing to be here to help, and he only nodded, trudging up the hill.

“You want us to start burying?” T-Dog and the few others were all looking to Rick for instruction. Sam was as well, startling green eyes piercing into his own blue ones.

“We need a service. Carol would want that,” Andrea said. Sam looked at the bodies lying around them. That would be a long process.

“Yeah, we all want that.”

Lori spoke up after her husband failed to. “Let’s…let’s dig a grave for Sophia, and Annette and Shawn, uh, over by those trees.” Sam assumed the latter two names were loved ones of the Greene family, Annette probably being Beth’s mother.

They planned a bit more back and forth, Sam stepping farther into the circle to maintain her spot in assisting in the burial. 

“We bury the ones we love and burn the rest.”

A hard motto to have to live by, but completely necessary in a world where people die far more often than they should.

It was a long afternoon, Sam dropped into a growing hole, digging alongside Jimmy, T-Dog, Andrea and Shane. They dug the three graves, right by the trees as Queen Bee commanded. 

Sam was making secret nicknames for practically everyone in the group, trying to distract herself from the dreariness surrounding the farm at the moment. They dug the graves, efficiently burying each loved one before the funeral took place. 

Almost the entire group was present, all but Carol, Samantha observed. Sam frowned a bit, before returning her attention to the actual funeral. If Carol chose not to attend, that was her own business, not anyone else’s. 

It was a relatively silent affair, Carter standing silently next to her. He looked better than he did earlier in the day, and that made Sam feel a bit better. Staring at the graves became almost unbearable. She had been here before, when her mother died. It was nothing she could control, just like she couldn’t control this. 

As soon as the group started to disperse, Sam stalked off into the nearby trees, bow slung across her back. Her breath was getting heavier, fingers grasping at the edge of her shirt. 

She could hear footsteps behind her, but at that point, she couldn’t care less if they saw her. She slammed her palm into a tree, grabbing onto the bark with the other hand. Her head fell, gaze slightly blurring. 

“Hey. What’s going on?” It was Daryl who had followed her out here. She didn’t even bother turning around, both hands pressed up against the bark for stability as she swayed on her feet. 

“It literally does not matter compared to what you people went through losing that little girl,” Sam ground out. She guessed that the bottle she was stuffing her feelings into was overflowing now. 

“Everything matters.”

Sam turned her head at that, glaring slightly at the man, crossbow hanging from one hand as he shifted from one foot to the other.

“My mom died when I was younger. Cancer. And there was nothing I could do about it. And then my dad dies, and Carter has to witness it. And I’m not there, and there was nothing I could do about it,” Sam turned fully now, striking eyes meeting. “And then I finally find him, because of you, and Rick, and I help look, but Sophia was dead anyways, and there was nothing I could do about it.” 

They stood in silence for several beats, before Daryl spoke again. “That’s how it is, how it’s always been. No point in getting upset about it, you had no control over any of it, just try to do something about the next thing that happens.”

Sam laughed. A dry, hollow chuckle that seemed too loud for the quiet forest. “When’d you get so wise?”

“Just something I learned recently,” Daryl said, before nodding his head back towards camp. Sam nodded, following the man silently back through the woods towards the farm. Daryl looked down at her feet, but said nothing, only quietly noting how the woman walked so gracefully, and without any sound, even on the leaf-covered undergrowth. 

Sam slipped silently back into the work, ignoring any curious looks thrown her way. She helped load walker bodies into the obnoxiously-bright teal pickup truck, working up a sweat after going back and forth a few times. 

Rick came down to the barn soon after, commenting on how there were probably only a few trips left needed to dispose of the bodies.

“We got lucky, if that barn had any more, we could’ve been overrun,” Andrea said as she and T-Dog finished loading another body into the bed of the truck.

“Good thing Shane did what he did, when he did,” T-Dog agreed. Sam was next to them, hands on her hips as Dale spoke next.

“You can’t tell me this was right.” Dale was baffled that they seemed to be on Shane’s side of things. While Samantha would have preferred they gotten consent to clear the barn first, she couldn’t say she was entirely upset that it had been done. With the barn being cleared, they now knew about Sophia, too, and that was a bittersweet positive. 

“It wasn’t. It’ll cost us with Hershel,” Rick agreed with Dale on that. They must have talked, and Hershel probably wanted them all off the land as soon as possible. Andrea blamed it on grief, that Hershel would come around. Sam highly doubted that was the only reason, and suspected that Shane’s leadership and contribution to the barn’s clearing had pushed Hershel over the edge, since the older man obviously did not like him much in the first place. 

“Look, I shot too. This wasn’t all Shane,” Andrea was looking at Dale.

“Almost all of us shot, Andrea. Not just you and Mr. Deputy. There were people to protect, so we did what was needed,” Sam rolled her eyes, Andrea could be so annoying at times, scratch that, almost all of the time. Sam just couldn’t get over it, and preferred ignoring her and her antics, at least as much as her mouth let her. T-Dog and Dale went back and forth a few times, all ignoring Sam’s statement, the only response was Andrea’s hard glare.

Lori stopped Dale from fully going off on them, “There’s no point arguing about it. It’s done. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

_There’s nothing we can do about it._ It was the same thing Sam was having trouble grasping lately, something Daryl had apparently already had a lesson on, and was trying to enlighten her about. 

“We better get moving,” T-Dog said, jumping into the driver’s seat. Andrea hopped into the passenger side, Sam sitting on the open tailgate, hitting the metal once in confirmation that she was stable in the truck bed. T-Dog drove then, and only a few feet down the dirt road did a walker’s arm fall off and out of the truck. 

Sam whistled for him to stop, jumping off and jogging to grab the arm, hauling it back into the truck bed and climbing back in, letting T-Dog start driving again.

~

So much had happened when they got back, Carter rapidly informing his sister on the details. Beth had collapsed and seemed to be in a state of shock, Hershel was gone, Rick and Glenn off to find him at the in-town bar. 

Since Carl was safe and everyone else was caring over Beth, Sam decided to head over to Daryl’s new spot of living, far away from the rest of the group, across the field. On the way, Sam had picked up her growing pile of arrow-wood and fletching, making sure she had her best knife on her.

She walked silently into the small camp, spotting Daryl on a log, doing the same as Sam was planning.

She sat down against the rugged brick wall Daryl was leaning on, pulling out her knife and starting on a new arrow. Daryl only looked up at her for a few lingering seconds before returning to his work, only letting out a grunt in approving of her invading his personal space.

She was surprised he wasn’t more up-in-arms about it, shrugging once before focusing her eyes back on the wood. They sat in serene quiet for several minutes more, the only sound being that of birds, insects, and the sound of knives scraping wood.

It was nice, calming Sam’s internal anxiety. Her shoulders lost a tension she didn’t even know they had, twirling the wood in her hands to make sure the arrow was becoming smooth and round.

Their silence was interrupted by Lori’s arrival, one Sam saw far before she arrived, nudging Daryl’s foot with her own in accordance of informing him of the Queen Bee’s approach. 

“I bet you she’s gonna ask one of us, or both, to go after Rick, Glenn, and Hershel,” Sam mumbled, Daryl letting out another grunt. 

Lori finally made it upon them, starting with the amazing opening line of, “You moving to the suburbs?” Sam twisted her mouth at that, maintaining her gaze upon her work. Lori was probably here for Daryl, then. “Listen, Beth’s in some kind of catatonic shock, we need Hershel.”


	7. Queen Bee Comes and Goes

“Yeah, so what?” Daryl responded, not even looking up. Sam ignored her all together, pressing her thumb to the point of the arrow before returning her knife to it. 

“So I need you to run into town real quick and bring him and Rick back.”

Sam scoffed. “And Glenn.” Lori glanced at her before returning her gaze to Daryl. She had even crouched down next to them, trying to seem less authoritative and more friendly. It was still a commanded request though, and Sam couldn’t see one valid reason for either of them to stick out their necks again for reckless people.

Daryl had already done so much for the group, and none of them had thanked him for it. Even so, much had gone to null, Sophia being dead and Carol unappreciative of the sympathy she had gotten. 

And Sam had tired, but it was for next to nothing, and now her sole concern was keeping Carter safe. If he was on the farm, then he was safe, and she had no other obligations really to this group. 

Daryl said nothing, only looking up briefly after Lori repeated his name, before looking back down to his whittling.

“Your bitch went window shopping. If you want him, go fetch him yourself,” Daryl said. “I got better things to do.”

While the last part probably wasn’t true, he had no obligation to do anything Lori wanted him to. 

Lori even went on to call the man selfish. Samantha audibly scoffed, and Daryl erupted. “Selfish?” He stood up. “Listen to me, Olive Oyl. I was out there looking for that little girl every single day. I took a bullet and an arrow in the process. Don’t you tell me about getting my hands dirty!”

Daryl gestured out across the field. Sam had paused and looked up as he spoke, watching Lori from the corner of her eye. 

“You want those two idiots? Have a nice ride. I’m done looking for people.” And he sat back down. 

Lori had the audacity to look down at Sam afterwards. “Samantha?” Like she was asking her to now do what Daryl had already rejected. 

Sam scoffed so loud her throat hurt a little, standing up abruptly, her face close to Lori’s. 

“You really think that I’m just gonna waltz into town to get those guys? I’m not involved in this, and I don’t owe you any favors,” she spat, eyes dangerously narrowed as Daryl watched her from the corner of his eye.

“What if it was Carter?” It was a low blow, but Sam didn’t let her shock climb to the surface. 

“But it’s not. Because my brother had to watch his dad die right in front of him and still made it out alive! He survived, alone, and found you people. My brother’s strong, and he’s not in danger, and I have no reason to deliver that old man to his daughter for you,” Sam sat back down on the log-bench with a loud huff, bringing her large hunting knife back to the wood. While she liked Rick and Glenn, and even Hershel, she wasn’t about to bend to Lori’s will just because she was too fragile to do it herself. Lori said nothing, only hesitating for a few seconds in place before leaving the two hunters alone. 

Sam and Daryl sat in an angry silence for several minutes more, before Sam let out a sigh. She flipped the large knife in her hand so the handle was sticking out, holding it out to Daryl. She had been interested in looking at his larger knife up close, so she silently suggested a momentary trade.

Daryl looked between her hand and her face, staring bright blue eyes into striking green ones. After a few more seconds, Daryl flipped his knife around too, holding it out to Sam. 

They swapped, and Sam pulled his knife closer to her face to see the details of the handle. It was even bigger and heavier than hers, but she liked the feel of it anyways. Daryl was twirling her smaller hunting knife between his hands, stopping to look at the engraved initials below the hilt of the knife. 

_SA_ was engraved there too, like on all of Sam’s arrows. 

“Yours is much heavier than mine, but I don’t mind it,” Sam mumbled, running a thumb against the flat face of the blade. Daryl grunted, and Sam took that as an agreement. He went back to looking at hers before offering it back, and the two switched again. 

By the time the sun set, Sam sighed and stood up from her seat, stretching languidly before turning to Daryl, her stack of mostly-made arrows under one arm. “I’m going back for dinner, you coming?”

Daryl only grunted and shook his head, and Sam nodded, turning away and starting her trek across the large field towards the farmhouse.

“Your book has a crappy main character, but the action is pretty good,” Daryl called after her, and Sam paused, turning over her shoulder, the rugged man looking up at her.

“Yeah, Josh can be a bit of a dick, but he gets better by the end,” Sam agreed, waiting another second before turning and walking back to the house, not looking back again.

The group was setting the large dinner table by the time she arrived, Carter greeting her as she entered. They were obviously talking about the lasting-absence of Rick, Hershel, and Glenn, and Sam just listened as she helped set out silverware.

They dug in quickly, Sam seated next to her brother, who was sat next to Carl. While Carter was a few years older than Rick’s son, they were the only two kids left in their group, and were close friends. Sam knew that Carter hid comics for him and Carl to read together when they were supposed to be doing homework or chores.

This seating, in turn, put Sam about as far from Shane as she could get, which she was silently grateful for. She just couldn’t get over his retched personality, and cocky authoritarian attitude.

Carol called for Lori to come to dinner, but Maggie quickly turned around in her seat and informed that she wasn’t there.

“Where is she?” Dale asked, and the table got quiet. Shane asked Carl when he last saw his mother, which was earlier in the afternoon. Sam swore under her breath, staring at her plate, eyes widening. 

“Shit. Shit. _Shit_,” Sam swore again, and the group noticed. 

“Samantha, what? What do you know?” Shane asked. The whole group was watching her, and the redheaded woman stood from her seat, eyebrows furrowed.

“Lori must have went after them alone. She came to Daryl and me and asked us to go get them.”

“And what’d you say?” Andrea asked, hands on the back of a chair.

“We both refused. I didn’t think she would go off on her own, though,” Sam scowled at the table, a hand against her head. No way did that woman go off alone, she could barely shoot a gun properly, let alone be comfortable handling it. “Shit.”

“Now, that doesn’t mean she actually went after them. Nobody panic, she’s got to be around here, somewhere,” Shane stood, and the group dispersed to find the woman. 

“_Sammy_,” Carter practically hissed at his sister, still seated next to her standing form. 

“_What?_ Not like I told her to go off on her own!” Sam whispered back, shoulders raising. “I didn’t need to go stick out my own neck, someone else could have gone!”

Carter narrowed his eyes at her before letting out a huff and turning to Carl. Being a bit more mature, albeit it slightly at this point, than the younger boy, Carter tried his best to calm and reassure his friend. 

It was minutes later, and they still hadn’t found Lori. Now outside of the house, Carol returned, confirming Samantha’s story of how Lori had asked both Daryl and herself to go after them, and that Lori must have gone herself.

Sam didn’t think they really needed to make sure her story was valid, but shrugged it off, watching as a few members of the group sent looks her way.

“What? Like I said, I didn’t tell her to go herself! She made that decision on her own!” Sam clenched her arms closer around her body, bow already slung over her shoulder. 

Shane quickly jumped into the light green car next to camp, taking off, seemingly after Lori. Sam had her suspicions about them, and this act seemed solidifying enough.

Sam stuck around the usual fire pit in the middle of their camp, keeping her mind distracted by making more arrows. She had nothing better to do at the moment, anyways, and most of the group seemed to be ignoring her, anyways. Carter was pre-occupied, keeping Carl distracted and busy, probably by reading comics. 

Sam let out a breath, looking up a second later as the green car returned, Shane and a slightly banged-up Lori emerging from the car. The group immediately surrounded and fawned over her, Lori asking for her husband.

“Where’s Rick?” The group was silent, no one making eye contact with the woman. “They’re not back?” She was shocked, looking at everyone’s faces. The conversation went back and forth between her and Shane, and Sam concluded from it that Shane had lied that the men had already returned just to urge Lori to return anyways.

Lori practically charged Shane, lamely pushing him in the chest and shoulders. Shane separated from her before accidentally revealing something Sam immediately assumed was supposed to still be secret information.

“I gotta look after you. I gotta make sure the baby’s all right, okay?” Sam’s eyes widened from her position behind the main group, coughing once on her own saliva in shock. A baby, when the world’s ended and the undead are stumbling around, eating anything with a pulse? Yeah, she couldn’t see a more dangerous way to live in a group. 

Carl emerged between some members of the group, Carter a few steps behind him. “You’re having a baby?” The young boy was completely floored. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The group was in a silent shock, not even Lori having an answer for her son. Sam stepped closer to the group, arms crossed over her chest. Dale finally broke the tense silence, gesturing out to Lori. “Come on. Let’s make sure you’re all right.” And he and Andrea escorted her back into the farmhouse to check looked over in better lighting. Sam shook her head and returned to the house as well, Carter and Carl following.

In the sitting room, Carl and Lori shared a small couch, Sam and Carter on an adjacent one. Dale and Andrea were occupying arm chairs, a round table between all of them. Lori, after getting some towel to pat off her wound, proceeded to apologize to her son for leaving without a word, along with keeping her pregnancy a secret. 

Sam sighed through her nose, leaning back slightly in her seat. At least the woman could apologize to her son, a lot of parents didn’t apologize to their children even if they had done something wrong.

Shane came in later, after Lori leaned to Dale and Andrea, explaining that they had never had ‘the talk’ with Carl. At that moment, Sam was grateful that she knew for a fact her father had already had that talk with Carter years prior. She leaned over to her brother, whispering into his ear. “You say nothing about the topic to him, okay?” Carter giggled, and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle a little, straightening back up in her seat. 

Shane wanted to talk to Lori alone, but Andrea didn’t allow it. Shane decided to instead just do his talk right there, leaning against the doorframe several feet behind the couch Lori was sitting on, conveniently placed so the woman didn’t have to look at him with all the anger coursing through her eyes. 

Lori finally allowed for Shane and her to speak privately, resulting in the entire room evacuating, Sam and Carter standing up from the couch, Sam reaching up to ruffle her brother’s head before he could swat her hands away. Carter and Carl went off together, and Sam returned to the outside porch, hopping up onto the rail, her back leaning against a column, legs extended on the top of the rail.

It was going to be a long night, and Sam was prepared to stick it out, lest Rick and the other two men return in the middle of the night.


	8. Who's This Guy?

The next morning, a group of them were gearing up to go after the missing men, as they still hadn’t returned over the night. Sam was loading her quiver with newly-made arrows, shoving a pistol between her back and the waistband of her black jeans, knives at her hips and one folding knife shoved into her combat boot. 

Daryl, Shane, and Andrea were gearing up to go as well, how they convinced Daryl to actually go was a mystery to Sam at this point. Sam had already said goodbye to her brother, and was just waiting for the signal to hop into the car and roll out.

It was as they were loading the truck did they see the bigger red car drive up over the hill. Sam flipped her bow off of her back anyways, nocking an arrow, but keeping it low in front of her. Nothing to get too hostile about, yet.

The car stopped at the front of the house, the group jogging over, Sam following, keeping her eye back on the road they came up over, watching for any following cars or people. They could never be too cautious, especially in this new world.

Seeing that it was the actual members of their group, Sam re-slung her bow over her shoulder, keeping a look out for movement over the hill of the field. There were intimate embraces then, Lori and Carl greeting Rick, Maggie passing over her father to hug Glenn instead.

It was then that Sam realized there was a fourth member in the truck. A young man, blindfolded and seemingly unconscious. 

“Hey, who’s this guy?” Sam brought the group’s attention to the back seat, throwing a thumb at him over her shoulder, and the members just having exited the car turned back to it, offering an explanation.

“That’s Randall.” Was all Glenn provided. Hershel had already told Patricia to prepare the shed for surgery. The man must have been injured, then. Sam still didn’t like the idea of having some stranger on the farm, but then remembered of her own sudden appearance, for she had only been brought here several days prior.

Even so, Sam had connections, and the group knew Carter, so it was easier for them to accept Sam into the group like she had been there from the beginning. Well, they were getting there. A lot of the members still didn’t prefer talking to her.

Except for Daryl, surprisingly. The grumpy redneck didn’t despise her presence, and even exchanged small conversation with her. Like, for example, how he didn’t just immediately curse her off of his little plot of camp across the field the previous day. Sam was still curious about that, actually, but asking Daryl would have to wait.

It was several minutes before most of the adult group congregated in the dining room of Hershel’s home, Sam was leaning up against the wall farthest from everyone else, observing the conversation. While present, she was not active, and preferred it that way, as she could see and hear everything all at once. 

Rick was defending his choice to bring the boy back, as Sam learned he was probably barely into his twenties at this point in time. Carter had originally fought to be in the room, Sam had him keep Carl company instead in trade of telling him what was being said later. 

While he was completely capable of surviving and protecting himself, something he had already well proven in the days he spent alone after their father died, Sam had the annoying habit of treating him a bit younger than what he actually was. It was something she had always done, looking over the younger boy since they adopted him into the immediate family. 

“What do we do with him?” Andrea shook her head, turning from staring out of the window.

“I repaired his calf muscle as best I can, but he’ll probably have nerve damage,” Hershel spoke softly to the group. “He won’t be on his feet for at least a week.” Sam pursed her lips a bit, not having forgotten the reason they were in this whole mess in the first place. It seemed like a majority of the group had already passed over Hershel’s drunken adventure in town, choosing to focus instead on the stranger staying only a stone’s throw away from them.

Sam agreed quietly that she should probably just get over it and focus on the problem at hand, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as she propped up one of her feet against the wall behind her.

Rick immediately gave his plan to the group, to simply take the young man to the main road and leave him there to his own devices. While Sam had her own problems with it, it wasn’t completely terrible. The only other way to guarantee the group’s safety was to kill him, which she couldn’t imagine happening with this group of people. The only one’s she could see actually going through on something like that was probably Shane, Rick, and maybe even Daryl, if he had enough reason to. 

Daryl came into the house as the group started discussing the suggested plan, the redneck walking across the room to lean up against the wall next to Sam, only a few feet of space between them. They looked at each other for a few seconds before returning both of their focus’s onto the group’s growing argument on what to do with the man, Randall. To Sam, he was just becoming a nuisance if this went on for too much longer.

The two’s gazes flickered to each person talking in sync, Shane getting all worked up, like usual, before starting to storm out of the room. Hershel was quick to stop him and start badgering him about the barn-fiasco from the previous day. At this point, it felt like that had all happened days ago. 

Hershel finished his lecture at Shane with, “So do us both a favor—keep your mouth shut.” And Sam almost huffed out a laugh, almost wishing she could have told him off herself. Daryl looked down at her from her similar stance, arms crossed over his chest, slightly quirking a brow at her almost-laugh. 

Sam returned the gaze, face sliding into something more serious before deliberately, yet appearing nonchalantly, raising her hand to her face and brushing the knuckle of her first finger against her nose, all the while maintaining intense eye contact.

Daryl took a few seconds to process it, before understanding and nodding, so small she wasn’t sure it actually happened. 

_He’s suspicious, we need to keep an eye on him_, was what Sam was trying to communicate, and she knew Daryl was smart enough to pick up on, especially being fluent in different hunting signals like Sam thought he was.

The two of them pushed off of the wall after Rick told Hershel that they wouldn’t be doing anything about it that day, and left the house along with others of the group. Sam hopped up onto the railing, feet propped up on the top of the rail. 

She sat and watched as Shane and Andrea had a far off conversation, the two standing between the farmhouse and the shed Randall was being kept in. Interesting. Sam kept an eye on them, but otherwise didn’t think much of it, as she couldn’t hear what they were saying anyways. 

All she could do now was wait.

~

The next day was relatively uneventful, the only major thing the next late morning was a startled Lori running out to the camp, asking Andrea, who was on watch, where Hershel or Maggie were. After asking Andrea to find one of them, Lori took off back to the house, and Sam followed, keeping up easily to the jogging woman.

She soon found out that it was Beth, who had finally come out of her shock, but had originally kept the sharp knife that came with her lunch. Sam remained quiet in the room as Maggie finally arrived to talk to her younger sister. 

With nothing left to do, Sam left the young teen girl to Maggie, Lori and Andrea. Leaving the house once more, Sam took to sitting on top of the RV to take watch, sharpening her knives as the usual rifle leaned against her chair. 

She found out later that Andrea, who was supposed to be watching the teen, left her to her own devices. Beth locked herself in the bathroom, broke the mirror and cut her own wrist. Sam shook her head, but gave her secret points for creativity. There wasn’t time for things like that, but, as it didn’t directly affect her, Sam couldn’t really care less about it. She wasn’t dead, and decided to live, so she left it at that. 

This group had way too much drama for her liking, but Sam just pursed her lips and dealt with it, putting on a calm face for her brother, who seemed to like it there anyways. 

~

The group was standing around the fire, awaiting Rick and Shane’s verdict on the matter that was Randall. Daryl, at that very moment, was having a ‘chat’ with the younger man, as Rick informed.

Daryl soon approached, knuckles bloody from his time with Randall. “Boy there’s got a gang, thirty men,” he said as he came up to camp. Sam was perched on a log, fiddling with her knife, twirling it around her fingers. “They have heavy artillery and they ain’t looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women, they’re gonna…they’re gonna wish they were,” he finished, saying the latter while glancing down at Sam, who only narrowed her eyes back at him. 

Rick went on afterwards, saying that no one was to go near Randall, not like any of them seemed keen to do so. Lori asked what he was going to do about it, and Rick practically revealed the plan, stating that they needed to eliminate the threat that was Randall. 

While Sam agreed, she wasn’t entirely sure that Rick would actually go through with it. She was confident Shane would, but if Rick changed his mind, she was positive it wouldn’t happen. 

“You’re just going to kill him?” Dale asked, completely baffled as Rick seemed so sure of his decision. 

“It’s settled. I’ll do it today.” And Rick left, Dale tailing behind him. While Sam liked Dale, she had a feeling the man would be pushing to spare the boy, and she knew not many would probably agree with him. 

Sam followed Daryl back to his mini-camp across the field, the taller man saying nothing but obviously aware of her presence. She had grabbed a little first-aid kit from the RV on her way, and plopped down next to him as they arrived to his little camp. 

Instead of allowing him to work on sharpening knives or making bolts, Sam grabbed his right hand and pulled it into her lap. 

“What’re you doing?” Daryl tensed, looking over at her in surprise, but didn’t pull his hand away. 

“Cleaning your hand. We both know that these cuts need to be cleaned if you wanna stay away from infection,” she stated, digging through the kit. She grabbed a nearby rag and bottle of water, pouring some on the rag before gently dragging it against Daryl’s knuckles.

The man didn’t even wince, the only indication of discomfort being a slight scrunching of his nose. Sam cleaned them before wiping on some disinfectant ointment, leaving them at that, as she knew he wouldn’t bother keeping a bandage on his hand at that point.

After finally letting the man have his hand again, Daryl shot up from his seat to grab the loose bolts leaning against the brick formation standing in his camp. Sam narrowed her eyes at the man, curious as to why he seemed so jumpy. 

Her thoughts were soon interrupted as she spotted Dale making his way across the field, Sam grunting a little to inform Daryl of the incoming disturbance. Daryl looked back at her, and Sam jerked her head towards the approaching Dale, Daryl looking over before turning back to gathering his bolts. 

The whole point of me coming up here is to get away from you people,” Daryl scoffed, loading up his quiver.


	9. It's Time to Decide

“Gonna take more than that,” Dale started. “And you let Sam up here, so I don’t know how well that is working.” Dale looked over at her, a weird look on his face, like he was insinuating something. Sam just scoffed. 

“She’s not completely annoying like the rest of y’all,” Daryl grunted. Sam was surprised at the small heat that crawled over her cheeks. “Carol send you?”

“Carol’s not the only one concerned about you, your new role in the group.”

Sam narrowed her eyes, curious as to what that meant about her, as she was similar in the group as Daryl was, just less…respected. 

The two went back and forth a bit, Daryl loading up his crossbow with bolts to be used later. It turned quickly to Dale pushing for him to help save Randall, since Daryl appeared to not care about what happened to him. 

“And what about you Sam? Don’t you care?”

“No. Whether he lives or dies, I’m not going to trust that he’s some innocent little kid. Not after what Daryl said his group does,” Sam stood, arms crossed over her chest. 

Dale went back to Daryl, mostly, stating that the man had a say in the group’s decisions, that people looked to him for answers. Daryl didn’t agree, and frankly, neither did Sam. With Shane still in the picture, Rick would always be fighting for control with him. 

And while Sam didn’t necessarily want any part in this, she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that no one was asking her opinion. But, maybe that would get better with time, when she proved herself more and the group trusted her as much as Carter did.

Dale went on and on, calling both Daryl and Rick decent men. “But Shane, he’s different.” Sam rolled her eyes. Of course Shane was different, they could all see it, at least Daryl and Sam could. 

“Why’s that? ‘Cause he killed Otis?” Sam’s eyes widened at that, not knowing who Otis was or what had happened. But she assumed, from this conversation, that no one else knew that Shane had killed this man. 

“He tell you that?”

“He told some story, how Otis covered him, saved his ass,” Daryl said, Dale walking up close to him. Sam listened intently, head tilting slighting as she took in the information. “He showed up with the dead guy’s gun.” And that was the cherry on top; Sam knew that whatever had happened, it was no accident that this man, Otis, died. 

Maybe she could get Daryl to tell her about it later, but for now, it seemed like Daryl was going to go out on a hunt, and she wouldn’t be sticking around camp instead. Gathering her things, Sam prepared to go hunting, making sure her quiver was strapped to her back securely. 

“Rick ain’t stupid. If he didn’t figure that out, its ‘cause he didn’t wanna. It’s like I said—group’s broken.” And then he was off, stomping into the woods, not even waiting for Sam to catch up, knowing she would anyways.

Sam walked silently anywhere, and that definitely didn’t exclude the woods. Daryl was just as silent though, as they made their way further into the trees, Sam taking a deep breath of the forest air. She hadn’t been out there in days, and hadn’t realized how much she missed it. 

Even when she wasn’t hunting, she was in the woods for work, following and observing, hiking and camping. The overall survival techniques she had picked up over the years had become extremely useful now that was all life was: surviving. 

Daryl wasn’t one for talking, as Sam had picked up on, and that obviously also included hunting. The two made their way between the brush in silence, eyes and ears open to the surrounding trees, knowing that most of what they would find would most likely be squirrels, especially this close to the farm. 

It was Sam who spotted the first piece of game, an arrow pulled and released at the tree before Daryl even knew she had seen something. A small _thump_ followed as the fat squirrel fell to the ground, Daryl picking it up, inspecting the damage. 

Not unlike the walker Sam had taken out outside of the barn after it attacked Beth, the arrow went straight into the squirrel’s eye and into the brain. Daryl pulled the arrow out and handed both the arrow and squirrel to Sam, face serious except for the slight impression behind his eyes. Sam nodded in thanks before wiping the arrow off, tucking the squirrel under her belt. 

They continued on in this way, taking turns taking the shot, racking up a couple dozen squirrels and a few rabbits between them. They moved in silence, the occasional glance or movement of a head or hand notifying the other of a squirrel or rabbit in the distance. 

They were solidifying a system between them; looks and nods and simple hand signals to communicate without having to speak.

They didn’t know it now, but this form of silent communication would become very important in their future.

~ 

It was later that afternoon, when Sam had returned to the main camp site, sitting on an adjacent log to the center of the camp. She was skinning the squirrels and rabbits she had killed, eyes squinted in an intense focus on her task in front of her. 

She could hear her name being called behind her, but she didn’t look up, only yelling back a “What?” while continuing to skin the gray squirrel in front of her. 

“It’s time to decide, come on into the house,” Rick called down to her from the porch, Sam letting out a huff before standing and wiping her hands on the rag tucked into her back pocket, stabbing her knife down into the wood next to her half-skinned catch. 

Lori was talking to her son as she walked up the steps, Carter right in front of her. “Come on, Carl. I want you to stay with Jimmy.”

“Yeah, Carter, you too. No listening in on this one,” Sam rested a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the whines escaping his mouth as the young boys went to a different part of the large farmhouse.

As Sam entered the living room, she came up to a stop next to Daryl, who was towards the back of the room, leaning against a tall apothecary chest. She leaned against the opposing door frame, arms crossed over her chest as the group settled into what would probably turn into a long debate.

There were several long seconds of silence as the group exchanged glances, Sam rolling her eyes slightly at the hesitation.

“So how do we do this? Just take a vote?” Glenn finally offered, starting up the long debate of how they were going to decide if the boy even lived or not.

“Let’s just see where everybody stands, then we can talk through the options,” Rick interrupted, turning the conversation quickly. This was already becoming a waste of Sam’s time, and she wished they would just decide already so she could get away from the crowded room.

“Well, from where I sit, there’s only one way to move forward,” Shane offered, Sam holding back the involuntary scoff that came with every time Shane opened his arrogant mouth. 

“Killing him, right?” Dale cut in. Even though they were not very far into the conversation, Sam had a feeling that the older man was the only one advocating for saving the boy’s life. “I mean, why bother to even take a vote? It’s clear which way the wind’s blowing.”

“Well, if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know,” Rick cut back in, strict, sheriff voice taking over. 

“Well, I can tell you it’s a small group…maybe just me and Glenn.” And even then, Glenn pushed onto the majority side, leaving only Dale to fight for the boy’s life.

The conversation went on, Dale pushing to let to boy prove himself to the group. Sam didn’t like the idea, but still didn’t feel that she could contribute when she was still so new herself. Dale went off on them, and the group went back and forth, eventually stopping with Carol demanding they keep her out of the whole thing. Rick finally left the floor open for any last words, and Dale stepped closer to try and push his side one final time, even though it was quite clear where everyone stood. 

“You once said that we don’t kill the living,” Dale recited. Sam had to hold back the scoff in her throat at the words. This was why there was such a large debate; there was a different set of morals the group went by, or at least used to. It didn’t seem that they contributed any longer to the group’s choices.

“Well, that was before the living tried to kill us,” Rick snapped back. 

“But don’t you see? If we do this, the people that we were—the world that we knew is dead.”

“See, that’s the thing,” Sam started, the group turning around to look at her, still leaned up against the wall. “You guys are treating this world like it’s the same as the old one. I know I’m still new here, but…you can’t just believe every person is good, that no one is going to take advantage and stab you in the back. We can’t pretend that everything is fine anymore, this world is different and you either adapt with it…or you die. Simple as that.”

They stared at her for a long time, her impromptu-speech probably the most she had spoken at any one time since arriving days previous. Dale was staring at her incredulously, some others with fairly readable expressions. The only one she couldn’t interpret completely was Daryl’s, the man staring her down from across the room’s large doorway, bright eyes boring into her own. 

Dale went on a bit longer, pleading that they do what was right before losing all control, Sam realizing that she was still looking at Daryl when the conversation started back up again, a light heat crossing her cheeks before she adverted her gaze. Andrea then switched sides, agreeing with the older man, but she was the only one. 

“Are you all going to watch, too?” Dale asked sarcastically. “No, you’ll go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we’re slaughtering a human being. I won’t be a party to it,” and he walked out, stopping and resting a hand on Daryl’s shoulder. “This group is broken.”

And then he was gone, Samantha and Daryl exchanging glances after Dale’s final words about the group’s dynamic. 

~

Sam remained around the fire that evening as Rick, Shane and Daryl left to get Randall and finally finish the drama his being there had caused. If Sam had to be honest, she found it foolish that Rick saved the boy from whatever caused him to be in peril, only to bring him back and sentence him to death. The boy would have died anyways, so his arrival only contributed to the group’s falling strength. 

It was several minutes later when Rick returned, the group waiting patiently for the outcome. The boy was still alive, for what reason, Sam had no idea. If they decided that death was the only option, then they should’ve just gone through with it and be done with it, but that didn’t seem to be the case here.

Sam remained near to the fire, keeping herself busy by running a blade against a straight branch, working mindlessly on another of her endless arrows. 

Then, it happened. 

Screaming. Terrible, terrible screaming. 

It was Dale, Sam was sure of it. Everyone was up immediately, Sam already running. There was no time to be surprised, something was wrong and they needed to help Dale.

What she came upon was unsettling. A walker was on top of Dale, the two squirming about as Dale screamed and the walker growled in its ugly voice. Pushing forward a shoulder, Sam rammed into the walker, barreling it off of the older man and onto the grass with a yell, no hesitation present as Sam shoved her knife into the side of its skull. 

Yanking it back out, Sam started yelling for the others, Daryl already on the scene and doing the same. She knelt down, eyes skimming Dale’s body for injury, seeing that his abdomen had been ripped open, entrails fully exposed. She went back to Dale’s eyes, the man’s wide in shock, locking onto her own. She rest a hand on his head, trying to look calm while Dale squirmed in pain. 

They maintained eye contact as the group finally made their way over, Andrea yelling out and dropping next to Sam, Carter screaming at the sight of Dale on the ground. Sam stood to allow Andrea in closer, reaching out for her brother and pulling him in close. Carter latched onto her shirt like a small child, vise-like grip clenching the fabric as he sobbed into her shoulder. 

Everyone was talking, crying, Dale gasping in pain. Sam watched as Rick pleaded for Hershel to do something, the older vet only shaking his head as nothing could be done. Rick turned away, yelling in anger at their inability to do something. Sam already knew, but didn’t want to say anything, opting to instead keep holding her sobbing brother, watching as Andrea cried over Dale, Rick finally pulling his python from its holster.

She wasn’t surprised at Rick’s hesitation, everyone would have hesitated in the same position. She was surprised at the next moment, when Daryl took the gun, knelt down, and made eye contact with the dying man below them.

“Sorry, brother,” he said, before shooting Dale in the head, ending his short suffering.


	10. Danger on the Loose

The next morning’s funeral was like any other, Rick giving kind words about Dale, about who he was and what he did for the group. Sam stayed silent between Daryl and Carter, bow and quiver over her shoulder like always. The weather was beautiful, sun shining down upon the vast farmland as the group was circled around the makeshift graveyard, the same space that held the remains of Sophia and the Greenes. Rick ended the speech about honoring Dale’s wish, about reforming the group stronger, to take control of their lives and their safety in this new, cruel world.

Sam wasn’t sure what had changed that night, but everyone seemed more determined to survive and not make any more excuses for giving up. Maybe this group wouldn’t be as hopeless as she originally thought.

~

When a small group came back from checking the fences, it was revealed that everyone would be moving into the house. That would mean fifteen people all living in one space, and Sam couldn’t help but shudder. She wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea, but couldn’t come up with a better alternative other than her freezing to death in a tree. 

So, she moved. She and Carter packed their small bags and headed into the house, Sam claiming a corner of the living room away from anyone else. The only other closer person was Daryl, who also seemed to want to be away from the others. 

Sam was also set as another guard, along with Daryl and T-Dog. They would keep watch over the house and property, something that should have been implemented far sooner than now. Either way, she was content in doing so, and wouldn’t complain. 

The rest of the late morning was moving everyone inside the house, Sam finishing quickly as she only had a single backpack and her weapons to her name, other than her brother, who was going to be sleeping only a few feet from his sister. 

Sam found herself watching the property from the railing of the porch, the redheaded woman perched on it, leaning against a support beam, vaguely listening in as Rick and Daryl planned to finally release Randall and be done with it. 

“Take him out to Senoia—hour there, hour back, give or take,” Rick said, pointing down to the map the two men were looking over. “We may lose the light, but we’ll be halfway home by then.”

_Home_. Sam glanced over at them as they looked out at the farm, Sam’s eyes squinting slightly before returning her gaze outwards, away from the house and the men and their _home_.

“This little pain in the ass will be a distant memory,” Daryl grumbled. “Good riddance.”

“Carol’s putting together some provisions for him, enough to last a few days.”

And then Shane drove up in that little green car, and then Rick turned to Daryl, bringing up the one thing Daryl did the previous night that no one else had the balls to do. Sam felt awkward being able to hear the conversation, so she turned away as much as she could, pretending to actually be keeping watch as the two talked. 

She knew they both knew she could hear it, but went on anyways. Maybe that meant they trusted her more. Sam pursed her lips as she thought about the last several days that led her to sitting there, right now, watching over a farm from the railing of a front porch. 

Going from completely alone for several months as the end of the world ensued, to finding others and her own brother in the span of only a few hours. It was hard to believe, that the group she would run into would happen to also include her own brother. Things like that just didn’t happen. But it seemed to be more common than originally thought, as Sam had learned over the days on the farm that a similar situation happened with Rick; he found a part of the group in the city and came back to their camp, finding his wife, son, and even best friend. 

Sam pursed her lips as she mused over the idea, but decided to let it go as she saw Shane walk up towards the porch where Rick and Daryl were standing. 

Daryl left as Shane walked up, and Sam didn’t feel like sticking around to hear that conversation either, especially not after catching the glance Shane threw her way as he approached the railing.

Hopping down from the railing, Sam walked away quietly, leaving into the house in some vague attempt to look busy. 

It was several minutes later when Sam returned outside, letting out a breath as she saw neither Shane, Rick or Daryl. She helped drive the last few cars back towards the house, keeping them facing outwards towards the roads. Everything seemed to be going well, or at least smoothly, until T-Dog came running back to the house, yelling something about Randall being missing. 

Great. 

The group went into high alert then, a group immediately going to the shed to investigate. Sam joined only after Daryl shot her back a look, one saying ‘aren’t you coming?’, so she came too. Bow on her back, Sam trotted up next to the others already on their way to figure out exactly what happened.

The group became bigger as the rest came bounding over after hearing the news. Sam was knelt next to the handcuffs Randall was hooked to, inspecting the narrowed opening on the cuffs where his hands were. 

She could hear Rick stepping out to talk to Hershel and Carol, who were waiting at the shed door. 

“The cuffs are still hooked, he must have slipped them,” Rick informed, stepping outside. Sam blew out a breath between her teeth, standing up from her kneeling position next to what appeared to be Randall’s solo escape. Only she didn’t think it was done alone.

Stepping out next to Rick, Sam leaned over to Rick, whispering quietly enough so no one else could hear, not wanting to panic the rest of the group, especially with how jumpy they were lately. 

“Rick, those cuffs are hooked way too tight for someone to just slip out of them. I don’t care how small his hands could have been, the only one small enough to slip _those_ cuffs would have to be someone young, like Carl,” Sam stared up at Rick’s blue eyes, his face pulled into thought at the words she implied. “I don’t think Randall got out by himself.”

As the group discussed Randall’s escape, Sam was looking elsewhere, scanning the ground and trees for any obvious signs of the boy’s departure. She was surprised to see Shane emerge from the trees, bloodied and yelling. His story of Randall getting the jump on him and stealing his gun made her immediately suspicious, as Shane was a trained cop, much stronger and bigger than the skinny, young, and most likely terrified Randall. It just didn’t make sense, that Shane could be uphanded so easily by a scrawny kid. At least in Sam’s mind, she wasn’t so sure of his story.

And a quick glance at Daryl confirmed that she wasn’t alone in this thinking, for Daryl was looking at her with the same wary, suspicious reaction, albeit quite subtle. Sam and Daryl exchanged a small shake of the head, each coming to rest on the same thought; Shane was lying and this could potentially become quite dangerous.

“All right, Hershel, T-Dog,” Rick started, becoming very animated as this situation became much more serious. “Get everyone back in the house. Glenn, Daryl, Sam, come with us.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up slightly as she heard her name, not expecting to get brought into this manhunt. She didn’t decline the offer though, nodding her brother goodbye as he fell back with the rest of the group to retreat to safety. 

And they were off after a few more exchanges of words, Sam following in the middle of the group, Glenn and Daryl right behind her. She already had an arrow nocked, eyes scanning the trees as they practically marched through the underbrush. 

“I saw him head up through the trees that way before I blacked out,” Shane stated, and again Sam looked back towards Daryl to see his opinion on the whole situation. His face was always hard to read, but she could see enough of the doubt written across it. She turned back to the front of the group without saying or doing anything, knowing Daryl probably understood her look.

They went back and forth before Rick gestured at both Sam and Daryl, asking, “Can you track him?” Sam was already scanning the ground, seeing nothing that would indicate movement through here. 

“Nah, I don’t see nothing,” Daryl answered, and Sam agreed with a shake of the head. So he didn’t see anything either. This was getting more suspicious by the minute, Sam’s doubt rising sky-high as Shane responded with, “Hey, look, there ain’t no use in tracking him, okay? He went that way. We need to pair up.”  
Sam was staring at Shane with narrowed eyes; why was he pushing so hard for them to split up? 

“Kid weighs a buck-25 soaking wet,” Daryl responded, his doubt audible to Sam oh so very slightly. “You trying to tell us he got the jump on you?” Okay so Daryl was incredibly doubtful. But he was thinking the same thing. Why couldn’t Rick see through this guy? Shane was being very shifty, but Rick wasn’t seeing it. 

Rick decided to follow the splitting-up idea, having Daryl, Glenn and Sam head up the right side of the farm, and he and Shane would go the other way. Sam just pursed her lips and accepted it, knowing she didn’t really have a say in how things were done here. 

So they headed off, Sam and Daryl in the front, hoping to find any tracks that could lead them to Randall. Glenn seemed a bit nervous as he followed, but was relatively quiet throughout the search. 

It got dark very quickly, Daryl finally getting fed up and asking for a flashlight, assumedly from Glenn. A light quickly accumulated, and they kept going, trying to find any clues as to where Randall was or where he went off to. 

They finally came across tracks, Sam quickly stating, “There’s two sets here,” as she crouched down to finger away some of the leaves. 

“Shane must have followed him a lot longer than he said,” Daryl added, and Sam stood back up to follow the light on the trail. Then the light went up, “There’s fresh blood on this tree.” Shane had a bloody nose, so either Randall somehow was strong enough to smash his face against the tree, or Shane did it himself to make up some story. She had a feeling one was more probable than the other. 

“More tracks,” Sam added. “Like they were walking _together_.”

Glenn bumped into her as an animal made a noise deeper in the woods behind them, quickly apologizing with a nervous voice. He wasn’t used to being out in the woods in the middle of the night, and was obviously a little freaked out. Sam, having camped and hunted so often before and after the end, was used to it, even to being in woods infested with walkers. 

Daryl then explained his findings to Glenn and Sam, who agreed, that something happened here, there was a patch of disturbed ground, and drag marks where leaves were missing. Glenn voiced what was running through Sam’s mind then; things were getting incredibly weird. 

They soon found a long strip of black cloth, presumably the blindfold Randall was wearing. A loud rustle followed, and the three of them jumped behind trees, one next to the other. Sam was in the middle, Daryl and Glenn behind trees on either side of her. 

Sam peaked around the tree, seeing the silhouette of a person, walking slowly and haphazardly through the trees; a walker. Daryl whistled for the light, which was tossed to Sam, who turned and tossed it to Glenn. 

The walker approached closer and closer, finally stepping between Sam and Glenn, snarling as the flashlight shown on it. It was Randall. It practically jumped Glenn, pushing him to the ground, the darkness making it too risky to take a shot. Daryl was suddenly on it, pulling it off of Glenn, but the walker turned and pinned Daryl to the ground, a struggle ensuing. Sam jumped closer, opting to use just her arrow, stabbing it through the walker’s head, the pointed end going through the face and mere inches from Daryl’s.

After yanking out the arrow, they turned the body over, seeing Randall’s face walker-fied and mid-snarl. Sam crouched closer, loosely inspecting the body for scratches or bite marks. Even after pulling up his shirt, nothing was found. But what they did find were clear signs of a broken neck. 

“He’s got no bites,” Daryl concluded. 

“Yeah, none you can see,” Glenn pushed. He really didn’t like what Daryl was insinuating. 

“Nah, I’m telling you, he died from this.”

“I agree,” Sam said, arms resting on her knees as she crouched next to the body. “No bites, no scratches. A walker didn’t do this.” She shook her head, hoping her theories weren’t becoming true. 

They left the body to return to the house, Sam’s mind spinning as her several old hypotheses combined into one, highly-probable theory. 

Everybody was infected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a bit longer for an update, this sudden online-school thing is kicking my butt, trying to switch over while being quarantined at home is ending up being a bit harder than originally thought. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Also, season 10 finale is tonight on day of posting, and I'm interested to see how it turns out. 
> 
> \- Domino


	11. Long Night Ahead

Rick and Shane were still gone by the time the three got back to the house, Daryl saying something about hearing a gunshot. It was true, they heard it on their walk back to the house, Sam was thinking it had to do with the two others. She had a weird gut feeling about it, but kept it to herself for the time-being. 

“Maybe they found Randall,” Lori offered. 

Sam immediately shook her head, throwing her bow over her shoulder. “No, we found him.” Practically everyone else in the house flipped their gazes on her, wanting more information, as the boy was obviously not with them. 

“Is he back in the shed?” Patricia asked, Sam shaking her head as Daryl answered. 

“He’s a walker.”

“Did you find the walker that bit him?” Hershel immediately asked. 

“He wasn’t bit. No scratches, nothing,” Sam leaned up against the back wall, taking in everyone’s expressions, which were mostly a mix of fear, confusion and disbelief. “He had a broken neck, but no bites.”

“The thing is, Shane and Randall’s tracks were right on top of each other, and Shane ain’t no tracker,” Daryl said, Glenn next to him. Carter was looking up at them, flickering between his sister and Daryl; Sam could see that his mind was going a mile a minute. “So he didn’t come up behind him. They were together.”

“Would you please get back out there, find Rick and Shane and find out what on Earth is going on?” Lori got quite close to Daryl’s face, voice dropped in her concern.  
Daryl agreed, Sam pushing off the wall to follow him out the front door, ruffling Carter’s hair on the way out. Sam could hear more footsteps behind them, a quick glance confirming that both Andrea and Glenn were following them out onto the porch. 

The sight they had through the dark of night was not a pretty one. Sam could already hear it, there was a herd of walkers on their way to the farmhouse, who knew how many. The disembodied moans and growls from across the long yard was hint enough that it would probably be far more than they could handle. Everyone else could hear it too, Sam was sure of it, as she could see Andrea and Daryl starring out into the dark. 

The group went into immediate action, turning off all of the house lights and Andrea left to grab all of the guns from the house. Glenn offered the idea of just waiting it out like they said they had on the highway, like Sam also did, hiding under cars to remain hidden. But this herd was headed right for them, and would sooner rather tear the house down than ignore it and move on. 

Daryl was apparently on the same page, shooting down Glenn’s idea as being too risky. 

“Carl’s gone,” Lori came busting out onto the porch, breath heavy. Lori started explaining when she last saw him, and Sam spun around until meeting her brother’s gaze. 

“Carter, when was the last time you saw him?” Sam asked, Carter looking just as shocked as everyone else. 

“We were all downstairs together, then I went into another room and he wasn’t there when I came back,” Carter was rambling, scared for his friend’s safety. “I-I thought he just went upstairs or something.” Sam nodded, hugging her brother briefly as he worried over Carl. 

“He must’ve gone after them,” Sam offered, backing off of Carter, rubbing his back. They went to check again anyways.

Meanwhile, the group began armoring up, that is, dishing out their weapons and extra ammo. Sam stuck with her bow on her back, and handgun tucked between her back and waistband, taking a nice rifle from the pile with a decent scope. 

Hershel was adamant about fighting for the house despite Daryl’s doubt about being able to do so. Sam was leaning more towards the side of running, as she wasn’t sure they would all make it out alive if they stayed, and maybe not even if they ran. 

After the conversation was finished, Daryl hopped over the railing and onto the grass, Sam following suit while the others took the steps. Landing with a thud on the grass below, Sam let out a breath before loading a bullet into the chamber of her rifle, keeping a nice, but close, distance between Daryl and herself. They had this silent agreement to watch each other’s backs, so they stuck together as the walkers grew closer. 

The plan changed a bit when they saw the barn engulfed in flames, Daryl hopping on his motorcycle before speeding away, T-Dog and Andrea in the truck, Jimmy in the RV, and Glenn and Maggie in the other car. Sam hopped up into the bed of the truck, stabilizing herself before shooting walkers as they approached the fence nearest the barn. Her hair was blowing around like crazy, becoming even more tangled than it already was. She and Andrea were taking down as many as possible, hoping to thin out the herd. 

The vehicles maneuvered back and forth along the fence, the shooters taking down as many as possible before the car turned around again. The walkers finally overpowered the fence, bringing it down as they pushed against it. Sam could barely see Daryl talking to Jimmy in the RV, but brushed it off to focus again on the walkers stumbling towards them. 

Sam could hear Andrea in the front seat of the truck, and had to agree with her. There was no way of containing the walkers to either kill them or lead them away, and they would all run out of ammo before either of those options happened. 

They circled back around to the house, stopping by Lori, Beth and Carter. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, glad her brother was safe. He looked scared, but had their bags and was armed with a nice hand gun; he would be fine. Sam hopped from the back as Andrea ushered them into the cab of the truck, the three squeezing in as much as possible. Andrea was going to leave then, but Sam pushed a hand out. 

“No, you go, I’ve got this,” Sam said, ignoring Andrea’s baffled face. “Just keep my brother safe.”

And Sam was gone before she could argue, running for Carol after Lori said something about her running off in another direction. Pulling her bow from her back, replacing it with the rifle, Sam jogged in Carol’s direction, flipping around after hearing her scream, “Look out!”

And before she could process anything, a walker was on her, its dead weight much more than she could handle. Struggling on the ground, Sam finally retched her knife free before stabbing it in the head, blood spraying onto her face. Getting back up, Sam pushed Carol to safety, out towards the road as she could hear Daryl’s motorcycle approaching. 

“Go! Go with Daryl, I’ll be fine!” Carol reluctantly ran away, and more walkers were on Sam by the second. Whipping around, Sam shot arrow after arrow into heads, trying to clear a path into the woods. 

There was no one here to save her, she had to do it herself. Half covered in blood, Sam ran into the forest, walkers hot on her trail the entire way. Every few feet she would swing around and shoot the closest one to her, but it wasn’t stopping them. Every time she killed one, another took its place in their chase after Sam. It was well into the next morning light when Sam finally realized she was running from nothing, that all of the walkers chasing her were either dead or wandered off, distracted. 

But there was still the issue of being alone, and on foot. Sam wracked her brain, thinking of where the group would go, having not been with them long enough to know of such things. She was never told where an emergency meet-up spot would be. 

For now, Sam headed towards where she remembered the highway was, as that was a known landmark to both her and the rest of the group. It would be hard to catch up to the cars, and Sam had already been walking all night. 

She wasn’t even sure she would ever catch up, especially if the group kept going, not bothering to wait for any stragglers from their group. Sam only hoped Carter was okay and wouldn’t worry too much about her. But, knowing him, he probably would worry and would probably also demand they go back for her, or wait for her, or something of the like. 

This started up a new-found confidence within Sam, and she boosted her silent step with a bit more fire, a bit more speed. While she was already exhausted from all of the running and killing, Sam didn’t want to be left behind, not when her brother was out there, waiting for her. 

~

It was well into the day when Sam finally approached the highway, seeing and hearing nothing as she stayed emerged into the trees. It was dangerous to be out in the open, even if she was trying to find the group. Sam followed the road all day, seeing no obvious signs the group had even been there, other than seeing a walker laid on the cement. 

Coming out of the cover of the forest, Sam approached the dead walker cautiously, seeing the distinctive sign of a bolt having gone through its skull. While it didn’t automatically point to Daryl, Sam had a hunch it did, and had nothing else to lose.

Returning to the trees, Sam used the entire day to move down the length of the highway, finally seeing a small fire in the distance. Not knowing if it was her group or not, Sam moved farther into the trees to approach under the cover of night.

Upon closer inspection, Sam could hear the distinct voices of her group members, Rick’s and Lori’s and even Hershel’s. She had found them, after over a day and a half of walking, without stopping, Sam had found them. Now was the tricky part, for if she knew anything about Daryl, the second she emerged, she might risk being shot between the eyes.

Sam crept as closely to the edge of the foliage around the group, of which were taking refuge between partially-built brick walls. Realizing she had moved too quietly, and that the group had no idea she was there, Sam bent down to the ground, finding a decently sized stick, small enough to snap but large enough to make a substantial noise. 

Standing back to her feet, Sam broke the stick in half, all noise from the group immediately halted as they snapped their heads to the trees. 

“Come on out!” Daryl shouted, and she could see he had his crossbow raised. Holding the now mostly-broken stick, Sam responded before she even bothered stepping out from her cover.

“Its me, Sam! I’m alone!” With that, Sam stepped out into the clearing, hands slightly raised to make sure she wasn’t shot. Daryl lowered his bow immediately, Carter springing from his spot on the ground to tackle her in a bone-crushing hug. The group all stood, either patting her on the back or something similar in greeting, glad another member of their group made it out alive. Lori looked a little shocked though, and explained why after Sam prompted her to. 

“We…saw you go down, we thought they had gotten you.”

“Please, a couple of walkers were nothing.” Sam twiddled with the stick in her hands slightly, eyes glancing around to see if everyone was there. 

They were all seated next to the fire now, Carter cuddled up to her side. 

“Did you walk this whole time?” Carter asked from her side. 

“Since last night, yeah. All to get back to you,” she squeezed him slightly, before turning back to address the group. “Uh…where’s Andrea? I thought she went with you guys? And Shane?” All she got was downcast looks. They were dead. And there was no point going any further into it. Sam wasn’t even mad that they hadn’t tried to go back for her, or wait for her, since they thought she was dead, the only logical thing to do was move forward. 

Staring at the crackling fire, Sam couldn’t help but notice Daryl’s stare on her. She didn’t look up at him, but could tell he was looking at her. Maybe he believed she was dead too. 

There was suddenly noise from in the woods, where Sam had come from. The group was immediately up onto their feet, whispering and deciding whether to stay or go. They didn’t seem to be very happy with Rick for some reason, at least from what Sam heard. Maggie insisted they leave at that very moment. 

“No one is going anywhere,” Rick growled out, standing fiercely on the other side of the fire. Sam wasn’t sure she had ever seen him this angry, this…frustrated. The group stood in silence for a few seconds, most standing, Sam was still on the ground, arms looped around her bent knees. She had been walking for over a day and almost a half, so she wasn’t getting up any earlier than she needed to. 

“Do something,” Carol insisted. 

“I am doing something!” Rick snapped back. “I’m keeping this group together, alive. I’ve been doing that all along, no matter what.” Where was he getting with this? “I didn’t ask for _this_. I killed my best friend for you people, for christ’s sake!”

This got Sam’s ultimate attention, her eyes blowing wide as she snapped up to Rick’s angry expression. That’s not where she thought he was going with this. The rest of the group was just as baffled, mouths dropped open and eyes wide. While Sam wasn’t there for long, she knew how Shane was, and could understand under certain circumstances as to why Rick had to do what he did. She wasn’t sure the rest of the group would be as understanding. 

“You saw how he was like, how he pushed me, how he compromised us, how he threatened us. He staged the whole Randall thing, led me out to put a bullet in my back. He gave me no _choice_. He was my friend, but he came after me.” Carter put his head down next to Sam, and she wrapped an arm around him. She knew he wasn’t close with Shane at all, but it was still hard to listen to as a young as Carter was. “My hands are clean,” Rick continued. “Maybe you people are better off without me. Go ahead. I say there’s a place for us, but maybe—maybe it’s just another pipe dream.”

He went on for a few sentences more, ending with, “There’s the door. No takers? Fine. But get one thing straight—you’re staying, this isn’t a democracy anymore.”

Sam surprised herself at the thought of being alright with that. Rick hadn’t done wrong by her, and there was no reason to leave. She had protection, food, and Carter. There wasn’t much else she could ask for. And then Rick left, presumably to walk the perimeter and keep watch, much like T-Dog, who was stationed on top of one of the walls. 

Sam waited for several minutes in the silence before opening her mouth, wondering what had happened while she was gone, as something obviously had. 

“What the hell happened while I was gone?” She spoke into the fire, eyes blinking up to look at each person around her. No one answered for several seconds.

“Before the farm,” Lori started. “We went to the CDC for answers, shelter. There was only one doctor left there, Dr. Edward Jenner…he told Rick something…that…”

It clicked in Sam’s mind. They probably knew what Sam had been fearing this entire time, that her lousy hypothesis was actually correct. She leaned back on her hands nonchalantly, knowing the stirrup she would cause after speaking. 

“Let me guess, he told Rick that we’re all infected, right?” Everyone snapped to look up at her. Their facial expressions said it all, and Sam sighed. “I thought so. Damn.”

“You _knew_? This whole time?” Maggie was furious. 

“Well, not _for sure_. I’m a scientist, I had my hypotheses,” Sam shrugged, not taking any of their dirty looks to heart. She could understand why they would be mad, especially after being told by Rick the way she assumed they had; bluntly.

“And you didn’t share them?” Glenn asked from next to Maggie. Sam shrugged again. 

“There was no point in sharing them if they weren’t true; I didn’t know I was right until we found Randall last night,” Sam said, only getting more dirty looks. “Look, if you need someone to be mad at, fine, be mad at me. I don’t care,” she laughed a little. “But knowing this fact doesn’t change anything when it comes to how we survive. So suck it up and stop blaming Rick for something that really doesn’t change anything.” 

Obviously it changed a lot of things, but the group really shouldn’t be mad at Rick for keeping it from them; it was in their best interest. It was also part of the reason Sam never shared her thoughts on the matter, for she knew it would just cause an unnecessary panic and wouldn’t help anything.

The group stopped glaring at her mostly, resolved to look at the ground or fire as they found truth in her words. Again, Sam could feel Daryl’s eyes on her, and her ears turned a slight pink despite herself. 

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
